Broken Like You
by epicbttrfly24
Summary: War has broken Alicia in more ways than one. She encounters Jon Good while flying and he becomes part of her healing process. He understands her pain and need to run while healing. Please read *trigger warnings* inside: Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC **COMPLETE**
1. Chapter 1

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price **. This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy!

The idea of this book came from the song Broken by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

Chapter 1

First class upgrades always were a treat, it must have been the late flight or something. They usually were booked full up. You looked down at your boots, the only remnant of the uniform that you used to wear day in and day out. Stupid suede. You had hated when they changed from the shiny black boots to the new suede ones for the war in the desert. You understood the idea, you guessed, but still it was so hard to get blood stains out of suede. The rest of your clothes had been purchased on the fly. Civvies were comfortable, but it still felt odd to be without the patches and the weapon. The weapon was the biggest missing component. You found yourself more often than not checking your side for the .45, only to realize that it wasn't on your hip and you weren't over there anymore. You were here. On a plane. A mostly empty plane right now, thanks to pre-boarding and the wonderful surprise upgrade due to your status as a homecoming veteran. An injured veteran at that.

You watched as people started to board after you. The seat next to you staying completely empty, and a hopeful sensation went through your mind. Maybe you wouldn't have to deal with anyone. Maybe, just maybe, the upgrade was because all of first class was empty. It looks good for an airline to upgrade a soldier. All too soon though, a body slumped unceremoniously into the seat beside you. Well, at least you got the window seat, and you were used to long flights so there was no real reason to have to bother the obviously agitated person next to you. Chancing a glance at the passenger next to you, you took in his body language and overall appearance.

The man would not sit still. His leather jacket brushing your arm every time he moved. He was big, but not huge. His blond hair was tucked under a baseball cap and he had a pair of dark sunglasses on his face. They covered his face, but did nothing to hide the stubble that was growing. The stubble, you noticed, was a little redder than the hair poking out in all directions from the baseball cap. It was cute. It was nice to see a little beard now. You had always enjoyed facial hair, being ARMY meant that was not around you very much.

The man barely fit well in the huge first-class chair. Tall and lithe would probably be the best descriptive words. And antsy. Good grief the man wouldn't sit still. You chuckled to yourself that First Sergeant would never be ok with someone who couldn't sit in a chair longer than five seconds without moving. You missed Top. You missed your unit. You didn't think you would, but here you were, flying away from it all forever and you missed them.

The man looked at you when he heard the soft chuckle. He could tell you had been looking. He repaid you in kind, except he did not make it a subtle gesture. Looking you up and down, almost daring you to look away. You knew what he saw. Brown hair pulled in a ponytail at the nape of your neck, brown eyes with no makeup on them, brown skin over tan from the sun, well where the sun was allowed to hit. Your one feature that stood out was a rather large nose, but other than that, a completely forgettable face.

"Wanna tell me wha's so funny?" his raspy voice asked. His brow arched slightly with a scowl on his face.

You looked him dead on. It took a hell of a lot more than a look to scare you. "Nope." You went back to looking out the window.

The airplane was beginning to fill up now. The man kept his eyes down on his phone, his hands constantly doing something. Tapping his jeans clad leg, tapping his right collar bone, shifting, shuffling. You were going to go crazy if the whole flight was like this. At least you didn't have to pay for the upgrade. The captain came on the overhead speaker telling everyone to get seated as soon as possible as they had a long flight and headwinds might slow them down.

As people sat down, one of the flight attendants got on the speaker to explain the flight information as well as the safety information. You glanced at the safety card in front of you. It was so different than flying in the military. No information on being shot at. No explanation of what to do if your plane was going down and the pilot had been shot. You chuckled again, mirthlessly. You hated flying.

The man gave you a sideways stare again. The flight attendant in the first-class cabin took this time to announce to the people on board that there was a special guest on the flight. You had heard these announcements countless of times when there were military people on board so you did not even think twice. The man next to you, however, seemed to slouch even more in his seat. He pulled his baseball cap down further to cover his face more. This intrigued you, but you said nothing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to extend a warm welcome to all of you and inform you that on this flight there is a true hero." The man shifted a little more. "We have a soldier with us who was hurt in Iraq and is flying back to be with her family. Let's all give her a round of applause."

Both cabins erupted in immediate applause. You felt your cheeks grow red under the tan. You hated this shit. You politely nodded and smiled at the flight attendant. What the heck made you a hero? The man next to you seemed to straighten, as if confused. You wondered why he would be so confused about there being a soldier on board a plane. He glanced at you again, noting the blush.

"You?" he rasped out quietly.

You chuckled mirthlessly again. "I'm no hero, but yeah, I'm a soldier. Or, I was, I guess. I still am? It's a little confusing right now."

He looked at you and finally removed the sunglasses. The brightest blue eyes looked in to your brown ones. "Well, hero or not, 'm proud to sit next to ya."

Not really knowing how to handle that from the huge man you politely thanked him and went back to looking out the window. He seemed to take the hint and pulled his hat down to cover his eyes. Soon soft snores came from him as the plane lifted off and began to take them to their destination.

Two hours into the three-and-a-half-hour flight your leg was starting to ache so badly. You wished you could just get up and walk. You finally decided that enough was enough and got up to go to the bathroom. You just had to maneuver around the sleeping giant. You were by no means small at 5'7", but this man was able to take up an unproportionate amount of space in the two seats. You stepped over one leg, trying not to hit the sleeping form. Unfortunately, your big ass combat boots had another idea. You kicked his knee, hard.

Poor guy jolted out of his nap, snapping his eyes up to see your chagrined look. His face softened, even if he was rubbing his knee for all it was worth.

"Coulda jus' said to move, darlin'. Di'n hav'ta kick me or nuthin'. I would've moved." He grumbled. His voice was even raspier with sleep. Something clenched in your chest. You felt so bad.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to kick you. I was trying to get around you without even waking you up. Just a little movement was all I needed, but leave it to the stupid boots to have a mind of their own." You chuckled ruefully. He shrugged and moved out of your way. You gingerly moved your leg again, not meeting his eyes. If he noticed the issue in your leg, thankfully he kept silent.

After your trip to the bathroom you made your way back to your seat. The man had apparently given up on sleeping again as he was again fiddling with his phone. You got to the aisle and he made sure to give you enough room this time so you would not have hit his leg with your heavy boots.

"Thanks," you mumbled, "and sorry again."

"'S nothin' to be sorry 'bout. 'S my fault since I was so sprawled out anyways." He replied.

You nodded and spent the rest of the flight looking out the window and enjoying the silence. No worries about being shot at. No worries at all, really. In fact, nothing. There was nothing now. Just a blank empty space where the thoughts used to swirl in your head constantly. The end of this flight couldn't come soon enough. You had an adventure to start.


	2. Chapter 2

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy!

The idea of this book came from the song Broken by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

Chapter 2

The plane landed without incident. First class passengers were first off and you were very grateful for that. You grabbed your bag from the overhead. No military shit anymore, you had gotten a black duffle bag for this flight. You were so tired of camouflaged shit. You didn't look twice, just grabbed your bag and headed off the plane. The past was in the past and this, this was you walking to your future.

As you meandered toward the baggage claim to get the only other bag you had to your name, you looked around the airport. There were no signs of welcome home. There was no cheering crowd. That was not unexpected, just different. You were used to your family being there to welcome you home at every turn. They were so proud of you. You don't really understand why, you were really nothing important. Just you. And frankly, you didn't even know who you really were anymore.

The walk to baggage claim was slow but you could make it under your own two feet. The ache in your hip slowly loosening. When you arrived, you noticed the blond man again. He seemed to be speaking to someone quite animatedly on his phone. Not wanting to appear too intrusive, but obviously curious, you crept a little closer to hear some of the conversation.

"I know, I know." He grumbled into the phone. "just shut up one…" he listened to the other voice a minute, "It's not my fucking fault! First I didn't grab the fuckin' bag on purpose. Jeez, Joe, fine. Yep, as soon as I can. I got a car. No, I'm fine. No, nothing was in it. Yes, mom… ok ok, fine. See you there." He hung up the phone and plopped down in the chairs next to the baggage claim. His hand came up to his eyes as he slowly ran it down his face. Man, you thought you looked like shit. Well, you probably did.

"Um," you said as you sat down near him, "I couldn't help overhear your conversation. I know I might be intruding, but are you ok?"

"You're from the plane, the hero?" You grimaced at that. "Sorry, I'm jus' havin' a day, ya know? My bag got taken off the plane and now I have to wait to deal with this shit storm while I'm suppos' to be drivin' to the next show."

You looked at him curiously, wondering if he is going to keep talking. When he doesn't, you ask "well, what does it look like? Maybe I saw what happened since we were sitting together."

"'S a black duffle. Kinda new, jus' got it 'cus my other one broke. Didn't label it right. Just fuckin' brilliant, Good, just fuckin' brilliant." He was starting to mumble to himself. His knees wouldn't stop. His fingers constantly tapping them. You placed your bag on the ground next to him and he glanced over at you again.

"Sorry, I wish I could help." You motion to your bag at your feet. "I just got this one too, it's a little different than my usual fare, but it works ok." You laugh a little ruefully.

He glances down and a grin splits his face. Holy shit that smile. It should be illegal. Those dimples. A whole new meaning to weapons of mass destruction. "Um," you start, "is everything ok?"

"Ya know, I think it is now, yeah. Uh, that bran spankin' new bag ya got there, that's mine." He was chortling for real now. Almost a little child's giggle. Your face was turning three shades of deep red. Oh fuck, what did you do? You've been on so many flights with so many people with the same damn luggage as you. You were always careful. You always check and double check. Mistakes mean lives, you knew that.

"Oh my god I am so so so sorry. I usually, fuck, well, shit, um, here. Here's your bag. I guess I should start looking for mine and you can start on your way. I'm so fucking sorry. Believe me, I can't..."

He shut you off with a wave of his hand. "Seriously, shit happens. 's kind of shit happens all the time. Don't even worry about it. At least you didn't steal it on purpose like some rabid fan or somethin'."

"Fan? Oh, uh, yeah, of course, you're famous." Shit fuck damn, of course you would do this. Who was he? Some sports star? A movie star? You hadn't seen a non-pirated movie in years, and even then they were so hazy that you didn't get really into them. "Um, sorry, been kinda somewhere else for a while and don't know much about what goes on here anymore. So, yeah, here's your bag. Sorry again. Have a great trip." You got up to leave and go to customer service in hopes of finding your luggage. Hopefully it wouldn't take too much time out of your adventure, but then why not start an adventure with another adventure.

He reached out to grab your hand, you immediately pulled back in a defensive posture which made him withdraw his grasp. "Sorry," he said with both hands up in the air "Jus' figured you'd like to know where I put your bag when I thought it was mine."

You nodded slowly, allowing him to lead you to the room where bags were turned in. He pointed out the bag and the customer service lady he spoke to. Within minutes you both had your bags and were headed back out to the baggage claim again. He ambled over to the chairs again, motioning to you to sit next to him.

"I'm Jon, by the way." He said to you when you sat.

"Price, nice to meet you." You mumbled, hating that you had caused the whole ordeal.

"Price? 'S that a family name? Seems a little odd, but 'k Price. Nice to meet you."

You dropped your head into your hands and mumbled "Alicia, not Price. Price is my last name, just been so long since I used my first name. I forget sometimes that not everyone goes by their last names. It gets a little odd for those non-military."

"'S'ok, I've gone by too many names t' count." He chuckles.

His laugh brings your head up. You must have had a curious look on your face because he started to laugh in earnest. It was probably the best sound you had heard in the past four years.

"You really have no idea who I am, do ya? 'S kinda nice, really. Um, I'm a wrestler. I've gone by so many names, current one is Dean Ambrose though. Real name's Jon Good tho'. Nice ta meet 'cha." He held out his hand and you shook it. It was kind of nice to feel another person, even if only for a second. You felt a little empty as he removed his hand from your grip.

"Nice to meet you too. Like I said, been away for a while and I've not really had much interaction with anything entertainment-wise from the United States." You started to pick at your new jeans. Jeans that were purchased with holes in them. Oh boy, Top would shit bricks if he saw that you were out of uniform and in this mess while the unit was still fighting. No, push those thoughts aside. No unit. No Top. No other side. You were here now, and you needed to enjoy this. You needed this to heal.

The baggage claim finally started turning and both of you focused on the bags slowly dropping down onto the carousel. You religiously checked your bag once it came down the chute, making sure that the name on the tag was yours. Thankfully it was, you turned to say goodbye to Jon, but he was busy looking for his bag as well. His hat and glasses had been replaced, and you figured it was just as well. He was famous, he needed anonymity, not some random soldier… ex-soldier?… hanging around.

You made your way to the car rental counter with fifteen minutes to spare before closing time. Thank god, well, thank whatever deity was keeping their eye out for you and your time schedule. You went through the rigmarole of dealing with license and insurance. You had the keys to the SUV and turned to leave just as the lady went into the back to shut down for the night. Tonight was going to be good. You were going to be good. Everything was going to be ok, right? You may not have a direction, but you had a way to get there.

As you walked away from the dark counter in the quiet airport you saw Jon running toward you. Shocked slightly by his appearance, you checked your bag again. Not again, you admonished yourself, no you didn't… Your train of thought vanished as he jogged by you to the now empty counter.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, slamming his hand on the counter. His shoulders slumped as he turned and walked away from the counter. "Fuck, shit, fuckin' shit, fuckity fuckin' shit fuck" he kept mumbling as he went to sit in the recliners that the counter had near.

Not sure what to do, you finally decided you couldn't leave it. You walked over to him and said, "Um, Jon, right? Hey, not to be super weird or anything, but are you ok?"

His eyes snapped up to yours and immediately his face relaxed a little. "Nah, but I'll be ok. Jus' my luck that this podunk ass airport only has one rental counter and it's closed. Wouldn't be an issue, but I got caught up with fans, you know how it is." He waved his hand and stared down at his phone again as if it would suddenly give him answers.

"Uh, yeah, I totally know about all that, got stopped myself like fifty times on my way to the counter." you chuckled.

He looked up again and smiled apologetically. "Yeah, sorry, I'm not usually such a dick, just been a rough day of travel. Y'd think I'd be use' to it by now. Now I have to wait for a rental tomorrow and drive straight through." His groan of agony hit you straight in the chest. He didn't seem harmful. He was famous, right? They have to be good in the public light.

"Hey," you said with more cheer than you intended, clearing your throat you tried again, "Hey, um, I did get a rental and I really am not expected anywhere for a couple weeks. I could help you, you know. Maybe help get you where you need tonight. I know you don't know me, but I feel that if I fucked over your time schedule with baggage then I should at least offer the ride."

He looked up at you from his seat. "Really?" Did he sound hopeful? Was that just you wanting him to sound hopeful?

"Yeah, I mean, sure, it's the least I can do," You offered.

He looked you up and down again, you felt yourself starting to blush. Thank god for the lower lights at night in the airport. He smiled again, and god you liked those dimples. "Yeah, yeah, that would be awesome." He grabbed his bags and yours. You blustered a bit at the help, but he insisted as you led your way to the car.


	3. Chapter 3

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy!

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

Chapter 3

"So, Alicia Price, huh? Soldier? How was that for you? Ya see any action? Wait, 'course ya did. You got the whole announcement shit and everythin' on the plane."

Jon had been talking non-stop since you left the airport. You murmured some answers to his questions, but for the most part you just walked in silence. Once you reached the car, you had put in the town he needed to drive to in the GPS and loaded up the bags.

"Um, Jon, this is going to go a lot better if you just kind of relax and let me drive. You can navigate if you want, but I just want to drive. Feel free to listen to whatever on the radio. Believe me, I've heard it all and I'm used to noise, I'm just not ready for conversation just yet. Sorry." You hoped that was enough of an answer for him because you were starting to genuinely like this guy, but you weren't ready to have any conversation about war and hell. Not with him, not with anyone.

"Shit, sorry, yeah, I tend to talk a mile a minute. 'Sok, I get 'cha, I'll just sit here and enjoy the ride. You're doin' me a favor, I'll jus' be quiet. Let me know if you want to switch off, it's still five hours to the little town the show is in. Thank god it's not till tomorrow night." He seemed to understand the need for silence from then on out. He only mentioned exits and turns that need to be made. He turned the radio to the country station and began to hum along with the song. It wasn't one that you knew, but you figured any noise that wasn't the constant repeat of hell in your mind was good.

Your driving did nothing to take away the thoughts. Constant thoughts running through your head. So. Much. Blood. So many people who did nothing to deserve what they got. So many lives changed for what? For who?

After about two hours of silence, Jon rasped out "Do you mind if I make a call?" His breaking the silence brought you out of your hellish reverie of thoughts.

"Uh, yeah, what? Sure, you don't have to ask man, do what you do. I just am not really talkative. That's all. That doesn't mean you don't have to not talk. You can do whatever you need." I chuckled, "It's not like there's a cone of silence in the car or anything."

He laughed at that. "Thanks, I jus' need to call the boys and let them know that all's good." He picked up his phone and punched a couple numbers then held it up to his ear. "Hey Colby, yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry, 's jus' been a shit-storm travelin' day 'sall. Nah, I got a rental" he looked over to you and winked. Wait, what? He just winked at you? "We should be there in about… hmm? We? Who'd I meet up with? Uh, well. Wait, hold on, Colby, hold the fuck on dude. No! Don't put Joe on the phon… Fuck" Jon dropped his head into his hand and waited for the other person on the phone to pick up. "Hey Joe," he said in an overly chipper voice as he brought his head back up, "No, I'm fine, just baggage and rental issues. Yes, I planned ahead, mom. No 's not my fault. Not every fucking issue 's my fault. Shut up, fine. Yes, we're about three hours?" he paused and looked at you for confirmation, you nod. "yeah, three hours from the town. Nah, we're good. I'll 'splain when we get there. Yes W.E. No, I'm not going into it right now. Ok ok I'll talk to y' in a bit." With that he hung up the phone and dropped it into the console with a sigh.

"You ok?" you asked quietly.

"Huh? Yeah, they jus'…they're jus', well we're kinda a team and we look out for each other. I never used to have no one, 's kinda nice now, but," He waved his hand back and forth, "they get a bit, eh, overprotective? We were all coming back from a four-day break so we're supposed to meet up and ride together to our show tomorrow, only, this shit happened and it ain't no big deal, but they worry. Not that they should. Bein' a grown man an' all, but they seem to think I'm one brick shy of a load. It means a lot, but sometimes it's a bit much." He chuckled. His hands were busy tapping on his shoulder blade again. He was humming, but not necessarily with the music, just humming to his own tune.

"Yeah, I get that man, you need buddies to keep you in check. I know I needed mine. It's good you have someone to make sure you're ok and shit. Be happy about that," You said.

You turned up the music again and began to hum along. It was going fine until you heard the most horrible thump. Your SUV shuddered and immediately you were back on the road in the desert. You corrected the skid, attempting to stop the car in the middle of the road, canting it at a 45-degree angle. You reached blindly for your weapon, not finding it. You began to panic, but this was fine. You both were fine. You were both alive. You could get them through this and onto the next convoy meet location. You grabbed Jon by the shirt as you stopped the vehicle and pushed him back into the seat with all your strength.

"Stay put," You commanded in your best drill sergeant voice. He looked at you confused and arched a brow. Thankfully though, he stayed put. You exited the vehicle, hunkered down and did a quick perimeter. While you were looking around you slowly came to the realization that this was not Iraq, this was the country in the good ole U.S. of A. You weren't there anymore, you were here in the country near a field. There was nothing for miles in any direction. Jon slowly opened the passenger door cautiously and peered out at you with curiosity.

"Hey Alicia? Um, you ok? Never had a flat before?" Jon spoke quietly, like he was trying to calm a small child who was having a tantrum. He approached with small steps, seeming to know that you would not take too kindly to any quick movements.

You huffed out a small breath and brought your hands up to your heart. A flat, of course. Dummy, of course it would be a flat. No IEDs in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. Jeezus, your face and body felt warm. You were covered in a sheen of sweat. You knew your pulse was off the charts. Jon, thankfully, stood far enough away from you and just watched you. He seemed to know that touching you right now was not the right choice. You hung your head and let out a long shaky breath and finally dropped your arms. "Fuck, sorry, sorry, fuck I hate this," you mumbled. Your hands were shaking so hard. You couldn't get a breath in fully. Your chest was so tight. What if it was something bad, all the scenarios were bad in your head. Here you were with a civilian, and what if you couldn't protect him. You didn't even have your weapons.

He came up then and put a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, 'sok, no worries. I've seen it all. I know that sometimes when someone is here, they're not really here." He tapped his temple as he spoke. "I didn't really grow up the best so sometimes I go to that place too. Takes a bit to get back to reality." He hummed and brought you closer. You allowed the hug, not really opening your arms, but not really pushing him away either. It felt nice to be in warm arms and not lost in the desert. He rested his chin on your head as he gently rubbed your back and slightly rocked you back and forth on his feet. You listened to the beat of his heart, steady and strong. Your arms hung loose at your sides while you let this virtual stranger hug you in the wee hours of the night in the middle of nowhere. God, what had happened to your life that got you here? Why were you so weak now?

Jon cleared his throat after a couple minutes of just bringing you back down. "Hey, um, it's pretty late. We can fix this with the spare, but, um, we can't drive three hours with it. We should pro'lly get a couple rooms in the next town, get the car fixed there and then head out tomorrow. If y' still willin', that is. I mean, comin' with me. Y' don' have t'. I'll pay for th' rooms so no worries on that." He would have continued rambling on, you were sure of it, if you didn't put a stop to it.

You stepped back out of his embrace and cleared your throat. "Yeah, um, that would work fine. Two rooms though, right? Ok let's fix this and get on the road. I'll keep a look out while you change the tire? Or are you one of those famous guys who never learned how to do anything for themselves?" You shot him a small smile to take the sting out of the question.

Apparently, this was the right thing to say because Jon's eyes lit up right before he burst out laughing almost doubling over. It was music to your ears. You were just grateful that the blush that was filling up your face wasn't visible in the night.

"Not me princess, nope, I didn't grow up with no silver fuckin' spoon in this mouth. Maybe something else that tasted jus' as sweet sometimes, but no fuckin' silver spoon," He chuckled and shot you another wink. He opened the trunk of the car and retrieved the spare while you looked on. You watched how effortlessly he made the lifting look. His muscles bunched while he moved the lug wrench removing the bolts. Your mind started wondering what those hands could do on your body if they moved so effortlessly. Your blush was in full bloom by the time the spare was put on and the tire was placed in the back. He turned to you and held his hand out. You weren't sure if he wanted the keys or your hand, neither of which you were too keen on giving up. You opted for the keys, however, knowing that after such an adrenaline rush it wasn't wise for you to be driving.

You both got back in the vehicle. He adjusted the driver's seat all the way back to accommodate his much longer legs. You curled up in the passenger seat and looked out the window. The ache in your leg was beginning to increase. Jon fiddled with the radio once more and found a quiet station that seemed to fit the mood.

"Hey," he said quietly, "um, do you want to talk about that?"

"No." You clipped out.

"Ok, no problem, but 'f y' want, 'm here to listen. Kinda a captive audience, y' know." He smiled at you and turned back to paying attention to the road. "Well, what about twenty questions?" He asked after a minute.

"What? Really? Isn't' that a kid's game?" you giggled.

"Nah, we play it all the time on the road. Can get a little out of hand with the questions tho'." He chuckled.

"Yeah, ok, but keep them light, I don't really feel like delving too deep into life's issues right now."

For the next twenty minutes you and Jon played twenty questions. He kept to his promise to keep the questions light, mostly. You answered honestly. What was your favorite color? Not green. Favorite animal? Unicorn. This seemed to please him immensely, even when most people immediately say that it is not real. Favorite thing to eat? Um, it had been so long but any seafood really. Did you grow up around here? No, just pointed at a map after you got hurt. Did you like the work you did? That was dangerously close to not light, you reminded him, but you answered yes, and no. He hummed in response to that and accepted the answer. He stopped asking questions and just slowly eased into conversation with you.

He told you about what he did in the ring. He was currently part of a group called the Shield who doled out punishment for injustice. You giggled at that thought. You asked him about wrestling, and how he got into it. He said he had a long road before he got to his current company the WWE. He didn't grow up with the best family life, but wrestling saved him. He loved it. You could tell by the way he became animated when he spoke about the dozens of people you had never heard of. He was in the Indies circuit and did everything he could, some things not so great, to achieve his dream. He had so many matches where he wasn't sure if he was going to be ok after them, but he came through just fine. He told you it made him who he is today, and he wouldn't change that. It's better to know what you don't want to be by living through the example, he told you.

Too soon a small town came up on the right. Jon exited off the highway and found a motel for the evening. The M had burnt out on the sign, leaving the 'OTEL' brightly blinking. The sign flashing touted vacancy and color TV. How high class could you get? He went in to procure the rooms while you stayed with the vehicle. Soon he was back out, tapping on the door to let you know he had gotten the room keys and you could go to bed. Thank god. You were exhausted. Hopefully you would be able to actually sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy!

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 4**

"What do you mean room?" You stuck Jon with a pointed glare. Hands on hips, feet shoulder width apart, your 'this means business' pose as your battle buddies used to say.

"Well, vacancy, yeah, but only one." Jon mumbled, obviously feeling like he had let you down. He hung his head and looked up at you through his blond fringe bangs.

You sighed, it wasn't his fault. None of this was. You were just tired, and sometimes life was just shit. Your leg hurt from all the travel and a hot shower would do wonders. It wasn't like you hadn't shared quarters with men for the past decade of your life anyway. Fuck, it wasn't like you hadn't fully changed clothes in front of men without actually showing skin for the past decade. It would be ok. This guy hadn't tried anything yet, and you knew how to deal with men who thought that you were their property to take anyway. It would be fine.

"Hey, no worries. Not your fault that this day didn't go as planned. For either of us." You chuckled mirthlessly. He smiled at you with obvious relief. You could see the tension leave his shoulders. You clapped him on his shoulder and went to grab your bags. He quickly brushed your hand aside from the luggage and grabbed all the bags himself. He led you off to your room with bags in hand.

Jon put the key in the knob and opened the door to allow you to enter first. You tried to stop yourself from scanning the area for the enemy, but old habits die hard. Jon followed closely behind, closing and locking the door. Out of habit you went over to the door and rechecked the locks. Jon cocked an eyebrow at this, but remained blessedly silent, for which you were grateful.

You both turned to look at the one bed in the room and then at each other.

"You can have the bed" you both said simultaneously.

You broke out laughing and said, "But seriously, I've slept in way shittier places than this in the past few years. It's just nice enough to have a roof and no booms outside. I'll take the floor dude, you've got to be all rested for your show and shit tomorrow night, right?"

He looked at you oddly for a minute as if trying to figure out what to say. He finally said, "I may be a shit sometimes, but I never let no woman sleep on the damn floor under my watch. Y' take the damn thing, I can sleep on the floor. 'M used to it with the guys anyways." He quickly brought his hand up to slap himself in the forehead. "Shit, the guys!" He grumbled. "I gotta make a call again, sorry." He smiled at you apologetically.

You giggled and said, "Stop apologizing, it's fine. They're basically family, right? Call them, tell them you haven't been kidnapped by some rabid fan. I'll take this time to use the bathroom. And we will figure out who gets the bed when you're done, 'kay?"

He nodded at you gratefully and watched you grab your toiletries from your bag as well as some jammies. A long hot shower was way overdue. Your leg was screaming in pain from all the travel and your body really had no idea what time zone it was in. You walked into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. The shower was a little less that what you had hoped for. Although you had seen worse, and been without showers for longer, you kind of thought that the states would have better amenities than a FOB in Iraq. The water pressure was nill, but the tub seemed to have been cleaned this century so you made due. The shower was short and sweet and did almost nothing to ease the ache in your leg, but at least you were clean.

As you dried your hair you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Here you were, Alicia, plain ole Alicia, in a room with some famous wrestler who obviously had people clamoring over him all the time. You could still hear Jon's voice as he spoke to someone on the phone. Joe? Maybe Colby? You wondered which of them was telling Jon that he was making a mistake right now. If you had to be honest, he probably was making a mistake. You were a little less than sane right now. You were running scared. You weren't a danger to anyone, well maybe yourself sometimes, but not anyone else.

You walked out of the room to see him sitting slightly defeated on the edge of the bed. His shoulders slumped forward as he listened to the person on the phone who was obviously chewing him out. He looked up at you, still on the phone. His smile did not reach his eyes as he continued to hum agreements to the person on the other side. "Wha? Yeah, yeah, 's not anyone's fault tho'. The fuckin' car man. Got a damn flat. Get that through y' thick skull. I'm fine. No, haven't been kidnapped," Jon was snapping at the other person on the line. "Not sure 'd tell ya if I was anyway at this rate," he grumbled under his breath. You heard him though and couldn't contain your giggle. He glanced up at you, smiling at that. Ugh, those dimples again. Should be fucking illegal. His gaze seemed to be grateful. He returned his attention to the phone call. "Look, Joe, I 'preciate it man, I do. I know y' jus' lookin' out for a brother, but jeez, shit happens. I'm fine. We're gonna get back on the road as soon as we c'n get a new tire. We'll skip the hotel tomorrow and come straight to RAW." He looked back up at you, hope in his eyes. That you wouldn't object? You nodded at him.

"Yeah, man, I know. Yes, I know, I'll talk to H when I get there. I'm sure he'll be super happy t' see me. I appreciate the warning. Tell Colby I'll kick his ass tomorrow. G'night uce. See you tomorrow." Jon ended the call and dropped the phone on the bed next to him. He laid back on the bed with a groan, arm flung over his eyes with his legs still dropping off. You could see the exhaustion in his face. You could tell that this whole situation was starting to get to him. You would be lying if you said it hadn't gotten to you as well.

"Hey," you started, "Um, is everything ok still? I mean you aren't going to get in trouble for traveling with me, are you?" You stared down at your bare feet.

Jon sat up from the bed and walked over to you. He put a finger under your chin and brought you up to face him. His blue eyes stared into yours. "Nah, no worries cupcake, this is jus' par for th' course for th' lunatic. I'll be jus' fine."

"Lunatic?" You asked with a little anxiety in your voice.

He chuckled, "Jus' one of my schticks in the ring, darlin', just a role. I'm as sane as I'll ever be."

You giggled a little and blushed at the nickname. To be honest, it was nice to hear someone calling you something other than Price for the first time in forever. You smiled up at him. He inhaled sharply and dropped his hand from your face and quickly turned to grab his stuff for the bathroom. Confused you stepped back. Had you done something wrong?

You heard the shower running and began to get the bedding for the floor ready. You stole one of the pillows and the duvet cover and set up at the end of the bed on the floor. You had just begun to shift off into a light snooze when the door to the bathroom opened. Jon stepped out in all his freshly washed glory. You feigned sleep while daring a peek at him. His damp hair hung in curls and a towel wrapped around his neck fell over his bare torso. You had seen torsos in your life. Hell, your work had given you the 'pleasure' of seeing everyone in all stages of undress, however you had never seen a soldier or wounded man with a body like this. Jon had no body fat to speak of. Every area of his body was muscle, and as he moved you could see that he was used to using all of them. He did not have the look of a man who built muscle just to show it off in the ring. His basketball shorts hung low and you noticed the light auburn hair trickling down where you itched to see more.

He seemed more relaxed after his shower, and noticing you on the floor, kept quiet while he deposited his dirty clothes in his bags. He checked his phone again and sent off a couple of texts, presumably to Joe or Colby. You shifted slightly and he turned to look at you. He bent down to take a closer look. "'ve been sleepin' in close quarters with people f'r years sweetheart, I know y' ain't out yet. How about we jus' split the bed. I'll stay on my side and keep my hands to myself 'n you keep your hands to y'rself." He chuckled with his raspy voice while he shot you a wink.

Your face turned crimson at being caught out looking. You pulled the duvet over your head and groaned at the movement. Pain was already blossoming through your hip and down your thigh. Your leg would hate you in the morning if you slept on the ground. You would hate your leg. Nothing good would come from it. But, sleeping with this man? In the same bed? Eh, it could be worse.

"Fine," you mumbled into your pillow, "we can share. But you can have most of the bed, you're quite a bit larger than me and you need the sleep more."

Jon grumbled something that you didn't quite hear, but shoved over to one side of the bed. You picked up your blanket and pillow and tucked in on the other side. You whispered goodnight as you wrapped yourself in the blanket beside him. You felt safe. You felt comfortable. It was a foreign feeling since being at war. You had not felt safe sleeping in forever. Not even expecting to get a good night sleep, you found yourself drifting off before you heard him snore.


	5. Chapter 5

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy!

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 5**

You woke to the sound of a phone ringing. An arm was wrapped securely around your waist and a leg was slipped between yours. Your back was pulled against a hard chest and warm breath was huffing behind your ear. The groan coming from the body behind you was somewhere between delicious and dangerous. You moved slightly forward, attempting to make some space between you so that he could answer his phone. Instead, he pulled you tighter with his other arm and reached blindly behind him for his phone.

"H'lo" He grumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep.

You attempted to shift out of his arms again, and this time he let you go. You were, sad? Your body immediately missed the warmth. You didn't dwell on the feeling, instead taking yourself to the bathroom to get ready for the day as Jon discussed the day with whomever was on the other line.

You looked at yourself in the mirror while you brushed your teeth. Your hair had seen better mornings, but pulling it into a pony tail you were able to tame it a little. Giving yourself a once over, you were ready to face the day head on. You came out of the bathroom to the sight of Jon sitting up in the bed. His phone was lying next to him. He was looking at you with a curious expression on his face.

"How'd ya sleep?" he asked.

"Um, good, actually. Probably the first night I've slept like that since… well since a long time I guess. Thanks for asking. Sorry about not staying on my side of the bed." You smiled at him sheepishly.

Jon barked out a laugh, "I should be 'pologizing t' you, cupcake. I promised to stay on my side of th' bed and y' woke up with my octopus limbs all over ya."

You snickered at that. "I guess we're both to blame, no worries. I've slept in worse places, like I said last night."

His face drew down at that. A cloud passed over his eyes. He reached out to grab my hand, "Hey, like I said, captive audience, 'm yours if y' want t' talk."

You smiled softly at the sentiment, nodding in agreement. "Thank you, but I don't think I'm quite ready for that. Now how about we get the car fixed so that you can stop getting in trouble with your job.

He groaned at that and fell back on the bed. "Yeah, I guess I'd better get movin'. Give me a few and we'll get the damn car fixed. We have to get a meal in before we leave too, I can hear your stomach from here." He chuckled. As if in acknowledgement, your stomach growled. Jon cackled then and went into the bathroom to do his business.

We quickly packed up the room and headed out to find both breakfast and an auto shop to fix the car. The auto shop happened to be near a small diner. Seedy, yet cozy looking. The car would take an hour, or less, since the owner seemed to be a big fan. You kept to the background, not wanting to make waves just in case something came out about Jon being with a strange woman. He seemed to notice your reluctance to be seen with him, but said nothing.

Hank's Diner was straight out of the seventies. The smell of stale cigarettes from the years of smoking hung in the air, mixing with decades of bacon grease and fried potatoes. Jon grabbed your hand and led you to a booth. You looked around ensuring the exits were clear and you had a straight shot just in case. God, you wish you could rid yourself of the need to make escape routes. If he noticed your surveillance of the restaurant, he kept it to himself. You were starting to appreciate his ability to read you yet keep quiet. The waitress came over in a black outfit with a name-tag that had been worn down over the years. The tag said Jean, but she introduced herself as Suzie. She plopped a couple of menus down and overturned your coffee cups and filled them.

You both enjoyed coffee with sugar… lots and lots of sugar. Usually people laughed at the amount of sugar you put into your coffee to mask the oilcan taste, however Jon seemed to enjoy the same amount so neither one of you had room to talk. There were old ashtrays on the counter, unused since the US decided that smoking was bad for you. You used to smoke, before it killed you literally, but some days you still missed those smokes. Some days you missed the drag of the cigarette with the smoke filling your lungs. The acrid feel and the taste filling your mouth. You must have looked lost in thought or missed something because Jon coughed slightly.

"Oh, sorry, did you ask me something?" you said, "I don't know where I went for a minute." He crooked an eyebrow at you as if to say, 'go on'. "Oddly enough, I was missing my cigarettes." You chuckled ruefully.

"You smoke?" Jon asked, seeming a bit surprised. "Haven't seen y' light up yet. I used t' as well before they 'suggested' strongly that I quit. Shit! You must be jonesin'." He chuckled. "We can stop 'n get some if y' want."

"No," you smiled sadly, "I don't smoke anymore. I used to, though. I never thought I would miss it as much as I did when I quit, but I do. I miss the camaraderie you get with smoking with someone, you know? I miss standing with my buddies and just relaxing at the end of a horrible day. When you're covered in whatever you just went through patching people up. When your boots are somewhere between brown from the dirt and red from the blood. When your hands were still a little shaky from the sights and sounds, but calm enough to use a lighter. We used to just sit around the fire pit, you know? At the end of a horrible night, after a mascal, a mass casualty I should say. Too many dead to let you sleep well, but you're too tired to be good conversation. The smoking filled in all the gaps. It didn't matter if you were a general or a private, if you smoked after a horrible attack, you were all on even ground." You slowly stopped talking, realizing that you had said more than you intended to.

Jon stared intently at you. He looked sad, but almost like he didn't want to say anything to break the spell. When he realized that you were not going to speak anymore, he reached across the table and took ahold of your hand. He turned it over and traced his thumb over your palm. Your pulse shot up, but you kept your eyes averted.

"Hey," he said softly.

You raised your eyes to meet his. Blue eyes intensely stared at you, not judging, not pitying, just caring.

"It's ok, you know. You c'n tell me 'nything. 'M not gonna think bad about y'. You seem to have gone through hell 'n back. I'm glad we met. Shit, I'm even glad you stole my bag." He gave you the smile, the one you were beginning to love with all the dimples. Your stomach did flip flops, but you blamed that on hunger.

You started to speak, to tell him a little of your life. You wanted to share, but just then Jean/Suzie came back up to get your order. Jon ordered quickly. You followed and ordered a couple fried eggs and some bacon. Real food, finally. You tried to avoid his gaze, but your eyes kept coming back to his face. He looked so kind. So understanding. How the fuck did one guy get you this fucking fast when none of your family understood.

You cleared your throat, "Um, so yeah, as you might have guessed I've seen some shit, er, been through some shit I mean. I was, um, am a medic."

"Yeah, I figured from the blood 'n crud talk." He paused for a minute, pouring more sugar into his coffee. "Y' must've seen some real shitty things there. No pressure, like I said, but if y' wanna talk." He waved his hands in an open gesture as if to say he was all yours.

You smiled softly. It seemed easier with him. He didn't judge. He didn't even know you; he didn't push. You stirred your coffee, happy to sit in silence for a minute. Jean/Suzie waltzed over to your table with plates laden high for Jon and your eggs and bacon. The smell was delicious. Your mouth watered as you tucked into the first bite. Jon watched you as you ate, a small smile on his face. Eventually he tucked into his much larger breakfast. You ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before you set down your utensils.

Jon looked at you curiously but you shook your head. "I think I'll take you up on that talking while you're eating, if you don't mind. It's kind of nice to talk to someone who isn't trying to fix me actually." Jon smiled at that and motioned for you to go on.

"Well, I was deployed for a long time. Too long. I can't believe that they kept us over there for that long with no breaks. Some came and went while I was there. I was so jealous when they left. Some just died and came back in a box. Those times hurt. I did funeral detail a bit, it was hard." You sighed, "No one should have to put their friend in a casket. Some people just went crazy. Those were the ones I envied, actually. It's good to lose yourself in that situation, you know?" You paused to see what kind of reaction you would get with that statement, but Jon merely kept eating, nodding slightly and listening intently. Feeling comfortable, you pressed on.

"I worked in the hospital for the first part of my tour over there." He nodded, interested, not pressing you for information as to where 'there' was. You were grateful for that. "It was relatively easy work. Set hours and all. Deal with the people coming in, fix the bullet holes and the IED blast wounds, send them up to the next echelon of care. After about six months of 'easy' work, I was transferred to a Cav Scout unit. Oh, sorry, a Cavalry Scout unit. They're, well, they're just a different breed let me tell you. They didn't get a lot of females in their unit, so when one was attached to them they ended up with a lot of unwanted attention."

You dropped your eyes at this statement, not wanting to see how your words were affecting him. Some people just couldn't deal with the hardships in life for other people, especially when it came to women. You hazarded a look in his direction. He looked at you with a mix of sadness and understanding. There was a spark of something else in the back of his gaze, but you couldn't quite figure it. He continued to stay quiet. Warmth filled you in the pit of your stomach. This man, this virtual stranger who you had just met yesterday, understood you. You just couldn't get over the feeling.

As you were about to start your story again Jean/Suzie came over to ask about the meal. Both of you said it was delicious and she dropped the check. The talking spell was broken, but the company felt right. You were enjoying this way too much. You finished the meal in companionable silence.

Jon reached for the check at the same time you did. Your hands met and you pulled back quickly from the sensation. He smiled at you knowingly and winked, "Let me get th' meals. Y' bein' the driver an' all. Also, kinda feel like I owe y' for the whole bag shittiness." Augh! Those dimples again. This time there was no hunger to blame the flip flops on. You chuckled and allowed him to pay for the meal.

He walked back to the register to pay and then came to collect you. He reached out his hand to help you up from the booth. Your leg screamed in protest from all the movement you had been doing lately, but you ignored it. Jon seemed to notice the favoring of your leg. He pulled you to his side and let you lean on him as you walked out the door. It felt so normal. It felt right. You didn't overthink it, you didn't want to. You both stayed like that as you walked over to the garage to pick up the car.


	6. Chapter 6

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *Extra Trigger this chapter*: mentions of noncom/rape past, mentions of gore/funerals, mentions of death**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song Broken by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 6**

Back on the road, you took the passenger seat this time. It was nice allowing Jon to drive and not having to deal with the permanent tenseness of your leg while you had to deal with the gas pedal. Jon made a call to Joe while you were at the garage, informing him that you were both getting back on the road and about three hours away. Apparently, this call went better than the others because Jon didn't get grumpy afterwards, nor did he have that strained look when he hung up. You smiled at him from the passenger seat; he grinned back down at you and grabbed your hand. You didn't really think. You took this time to be selfish and just enjoy. He was cute, and comforting. He was steady when you were a bundle of crazy. He laced his fingers through yours and kept them on his thigh. The warm feeling in the pit of your stomach grew and you just decided to enjoy the ride, wherever it might take you. You felt safe here, calm. How strange to feel so calm when nothing had been fixed. You decided not to dwell on it, besides, anything was better than where you were coming from.

Jon drove, uh, quickly? He was not the worst driver that you had been with in any way, but you definitely did not feel lulled into a sleep. You enjoyed the ride while looking out at the scenery. You pulled your hand back and started to draw designs on your jeans. Your mind drifting to the various times you had been on the roads over there, as a driver or in the dreaded passenger seat. All the times when a round-about came up and your stomach would drop out in worry. All the times you were behind the TC in the death seat. You even 'got' to be a gunner a couple of times when people were spread so thin.

"So," Jon broke into your thoughts after an hour or so, "Thanks for talkin' t' me earlier. 'S cool that y' trusted me to listen. I know from personal experience how hard it is to open up."

You looked at him for a minute, not really knowing how to respond. "Yeah, well the therapist said that I should talk, she didn't really say who I should talk to." You giggled a little sadly. "I think I've actually talked to you more than anyone in a long time." You smiled at him gratefully.

"Therapist? Like physical therapist or, y' know," he tapped his head, "head shrinker?"

"Ah, yes, head shrinker." You said in your best Austrian accent. "I'm pretty sure that was on most of her diplomas," you laughed. "Dr. Chris Melano, head shrinker, PHD, HEAD-SHRINK. She would love that. She would probably like you, in fact. Actually, for a therapist she was pretty cool, I guess. She was better than most of the men I had to talk to. Let me talk about everything I wanted, but she avoided, like, the real issues. I don't know if that was helpful, but she didn't push. I hate people who think they can fix you, you know? Like what the fuck do you know anyways? Who even said I need fixing? Even my family, you know? Even my family thinks I'm going to just vomit my feelings out to them. Like, what the fuck?" you were getting louder with each statement, balling up your hands into fists repeatedly. You realized that you were vomiting your feelings but you couldn't stop.

"They weren't even there! They don't have any idea what it's like not knowing if you're going to wake up and still have a friend tomorrow. Or a place to sleep! Or even fucking wake up! Fuck! They know nothing about going to sleep only to be woken up by a guy who's 'missing his wife something fierce' and needs a quick lay so 'shut the fuck up and take it'." You heard Jon's sharp intake of breath at this, but you were on a roll. Why stop now?

"They don't know anything about being woken up to be told that so and so was dead and you were tasked for mortuary detail, even though they were your friend, as well as funeral detail!" You chuckled humorlessly and dropped your head in your hands, only to bring it right back up to continue. "And, fucking brains get everywhere! Did you know that? You ever try to pick brains out of a vehicle?! You can't get that shit out! And it's awfully presumptuous for some schooled asshole who's never done anything except ride a fucking desk to say that just because I got hit and died, I will be changed forever. Who says I changed?! They don't know me! Fucking no one knows me! Fucking chairborne rangers! WHAT THE FUCK, RIGHT? I MEAN, RIGHT?! I WISH THEY WOULD ALL JUST STOP POKING AT ME! I WISH THEY SHOULD HAVE FUCKING LEFT ME INSTEAD OF BRINGING ME BACK TO FACE THIS SHIT!"

You were full on yelling now inside the small interior of the SUV. Your voice cracking with emotion. Your hands and body were shaking while you went on and on. Jon let you rant for a few minutes, he seemed to know that you needed to vent this. He put his hand on your leg. You flinched back at first, but he kept his hand there. He didn't move it up and down in some perverted invitation, nor did he take it away as soon as he saw the flinch. He just stayed. Tears pricked the back of your eyes as you stopped yelling and let the warmth of his hand ground you. Your chest was heaving at the flood of emotions that had poured out. Embarrassment mixed with exhaustion engulfed your body. The back of your hand furiously swept the tears away. You sunk into yourself, curling up as much as you could in the passenger seat. Fuck you felt weak. You hated feeling weak. And in front of this stranger. Well, let's be honest, he wasn't just any stranger anymore. He was… a friend?

He gently squeezed your leg and said, "Alicia? 'M not tryin' to say I understand what y' went through." He pulled his hand back and gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to focus on the road. His breath came out in a small huff and he said, "I mean, Jesus fuck, y' died?" He gasped that out, almost as if he didn't want to, but it slipped. Once he said it he couldn't grab the words back. He started to fidget again, his left leg moving constantly while he attempted to pay attention to the road.

It was too much. This whole situation was just too much too soon. Your leg hurt. Your head hurt. You had said too much. Your vision was swimming and there was saliva pooling in your mouth. You knew you were going to lose it. "Please, pull over." You rasped out.

He looked at you confused, "We're still in the middle of..."

"Pull the fucking car over, Jon, please! I'm gonna lose my breakfast!" you all but shouted, flailing at the door handle.

He quickly slowed the car and pulled it off to the side of the road, popping on the hazards. You wrenched the door open and barely made it to your knees before losing the wonderful fried eggs and bacon that you had eaten that morning. When nothing was left, your body still attempted to rid you of everything else. Dry heaving and crying, you crumpled to the ground. Jon was beside you, arm around your shoulders, humming his tune. He rested his chin on your head. You appreciated the touch, the grounding. You appreciated the warmth.

When you were finally spent, he turned you into his body and just held you. Both of you sitting on the side of the road in the middle of some nowhere state. A couple cars drove by, but neither of you paid any attention to them. It was just the two of you and the quiet. The breeze on your neck calming your system down. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. He gently rocked you both while rubbing your back, humming.

Sniffling and feeling every shade of embarrassment that you could, you finally disengaged from his hold. He let you go easily and just leaned back to look at you, unsure of what to say, you supposed. Poor guy, he had no idea the cluster-fuck he was getting into when you offered him a ride.

"Hey, so, um, right…" you chuckled. "I'm ok now. I'm so sorry about that. I didn't mean to vomit everything out." This made you snicker again, "literally and figuratively I guess."

His smile did not reach his eyes. "What are friends for? 've had my share of shitty times. 'n I know when it has t' come out, y' don't get no choice in th' matter. I understan'." He patted you on the shoulder again, "Well, as much as I c'n, y' know?" He shrugged.

Jon stood first and held out his hand to you. This time you didn't even hesitate and grasped it. He helped you to your feet and took you back over to the car. As if dealing with a child, he lifted you into the passenger seat and buckled you in. You leaned your head back against the head rest and closed your eyes. Fuck this. Fuck feelings. Fuck being weak. It was better when you were gone and didn't have to deal with this shit.

As he walked around the vehicle to get into the driver's side, Jon smiled at you again. He started the car and placed his hand on your leg and patted it. You looked over at him questioningly. He said, "Um, not saying this t' be nosy 'n' shit, but what's up with your family? Why haven't y' called them? They're not, uh, in th' picture?"

"Ah, yes," you said sadly, "My family. Well, first, I don't currently have a phone." He looked at you quickly but then paid attention to the traffic as he moved the car back onto the highway.

"No phone? Who doesn't hav' a phone nowadays? Shit, I hate th' fuckers, but I even hav' a phone." He laughed quietly. "Mostly 'cus they say I have t' have one tho', t' be honest."

"Uh, well, I was in the hospital for a while over in Europe while they fixed me up. For a long while, I guess is the best estimate. I called them when I was over there and they understand this. They know I need this time to myself. Or, I guess," You giggled, "with you?" You turned to smile at him then.

He grinned back at you, fucking dimples. He turned to face the road and said, "If y' need t' borrow a phone, darlin', mine's all yours."

You grinned at him. "What if I steal the number and publish it? Or better yet, get a phone and use it to call you constantly. I might still be some crazy fan, you know? This all might be some dubious plot to get my claws into you and make you a slave to my whims."

He guffawed at that, dimples showing again when he faced you for a second. His tongue shot out to the side of his mouth and he said softly, "Oh, cupcake, 'f only."

Turning beet red, you smacked his arm and turned back to look out the window. Jon just chuckled and turned the radio back to country. He began to hum along. Giggling at the thought of capturing him for your whims, you looked out the window. The horrible thoughts of over there had been pushed back again. The calm after the storm had settled. Your breath was not coming in jagged hitches anymore. Your body felt relaxed again, exhausted from your tirade, but relaxed. Adrenaline come down was draining. This trip was good for you, though. Even more, this man was good for you. You had an hour left before you reached the town. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, not intending to sleep, but sleep came anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 7**

You woke up to Jon quietly calling your name. "Alicia? Hey, cupcake?" You slowly opened your eyes and turned to see him sitting in the driver's seat. He had turned off the car and you were obviously in a parking lot at an arena. He had parked near long trucks bearing the faces of WWE superstars and other SUVs that you could only assume were rentals.

You wiped the sleep from your eyes. Fuck, when did you fall asleep? And sleep with no dreams? That was almost unheard of lately. But this had been the second time around this man that you had been able to sleep without dreaming.

Groaning, you stretched out your leg. It screamed in protest and you promised internally that you would try to exercise it a bit more, maybe even do the damn stretches you were supposed to. You looked over at Jon and said, "Hey, sorry about that. I didn't realize that I was still so tired. Must have made for some fun driving the last leg of the journey." You smiled ruefully.

He smiled back at you showing nothing but genuine care in his blue eyes. "'S not a problem. I mean, even if y' do snore." He yelped as you hit his arm, but continued on, "Sometimes best thing 's t' sleep and let your body and mind recover." He got out of the car and came over to the passenger side to open your door. "'Sides, you looked so peaceful, seemed kinda mean to wake y' jus' to play another game of twenty questions." He grinned at this, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth again.

"But," He said as he helped you out of the car, "we're here. I have to go inside 'n meet with th' guys. We're on the card early tonight. Y' ready to come see my crazy?"

You laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ready. I mean you've seen my crazy, why not share in some of yours."

He put an arm around your shoulder and brought you in for a small hug. "Hey, I know y' don't hav' to share that shit wit' me, but 'm glad y' do. Believe me, y' gotta get it out there. Keepin' everythin' bottled in is bad for business." You snorted at the sentiment but allowed him to comfort you.

You leaned into the hug, relishing the warmth and calm of his body. You breathed in the scent of his aftershave and the leather of his jacket. You could probably get used to this, if you allowed yourself.

Too soon he pulled away to get the bags out of the back of the car. With everything loaded up in his arms, he took your hand and you both walked to the arena. It felt a little odd to be so comfortable with someone after just one day. But here you were, holding hands with some WWE superstar and walking into fuck knows what. Eh, one day at a time, right? That's what Dr. Melano said. Just take it one day at a time. And trust yourself. Huh, that was the weird one. Here you were, trusting your feelings, and so far they hadn't told you to run. So far, they had told you this guy was good for you. He didn't judge. He didn't pry. He just existed as a wonderful sounding board with a fucking too sexy smile.

The doorman stopped Jon for a few seconds to get some information and check a list, his ID and yours, but apparently everything was cleared ahead of time. You looked at him in slight confusion as you proceeded into the back halls of the arena. People milled around, stage hands and other wrestlers you assumed.

"I talked t' Joe 'n Colby at th' garage, 'n they gave H a heads up that y' were comin'. I gave your name 'n said y' were back from th' war 'n shit. They put y' on th' list for VIP. That means that y' get t' jus' hang out backstage 'n do whatever. Hope y' don' mind." Jon said when he noticed the confusion in your face. "I figured if y' wanted t' stay with me during the matches y' could. I jus' figured..." He dropped his gaze. His bangs fell over his eyes and he looked to the side, not meeting your eyes directly. Was he hoping that you were going to stay? Did he honestly think you would run after all that had happened in the past 24 hours?

"Um, yeah I'll stay. Look, Jon, this is not in any way a conventional situation with everything I've put you through. I'm kind of a shit-storm of crazy right now. I'm working through some crap that just doesn't seem to leave me alone. I'm so sorry about earlier. You have no idea how sorry I am. I don't usually just let it all out on a pretty much perfect fucking stranger. I'm just happy you don't mind that you have to deal with a whack job. And as for the war and shit, let's… um, let's just not broadcast about that. Like I said, I'm not a hero. I'm just me. Well, I think I'm me."

You were rambling again. Your palms were beginning to sweat and your chest was starting to tighten. Your pulse was beginning to skyrocket. Fuck, not right now. Not a panic attack, not here. Fuck!

Jon seemed to sense the change in you and pulled off to the side of the hallway near some large crates marked merchandise. He set the bags on the ground and turned to face you. He put his hands on your shoulders and gently forced you to face him by tilting your chin up with a finger. God, you could get lost in those blue eyes. It's better than getting lost in your own personal hell. Tears were going to come soon, you could feel them. You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the storm of feelings that was welling up inside you. Slowly, ever so slowly, as if he was waiting for you to say something or move back, he leaned in and brushed his lips over yours.

Shocked at the touch, you stopped everything. Your mind stopped thinking. Your body froze. You didn't lean into the kiss, but you didn't move away either. He moved back just a bit to lean his forehead against yours. You looked confused and brought your fingers up to touch your lips. It had been forever since someone touched you like that. Like you were precious and not just another one of the 'guys', but with better parts to fuck with. Jon wrapped his arms around you and brought you into a hug.

"Uh," you cleared your throat, your voice sounding hoarse to your own ears. He grinned at your flustered state.

"Um," you tried again. "Well, thank you for stopping my tirade. Apparently, that's one way to stop the word vomit. Thank you." You giggled.

Jon smiled down at you a little sadly. "Anythin' for y', darlin'." You chuckled again at this. "I mean it," he pressed on, "I don' have a car, so y' stuck wit' my ass f'r th' time bein'." He grinned a little at that. "And 'm here t' help 's much as y'll let me." He finished softly.

"Well, let's just chalk that up to one of the ways you can stop the crazy, yeah?" You winked at him. He inhaled sharply and brought you in for a hard hug. This time your arms did reach around his middle and held tight. You both stayed that way for a few seconds, relishing the warmth of the other.

Soon enough though, you heard voices calling out his name and he released you from the hug. Turning to look at where the voices were coming from, his face split into a wide grin.

"Joe! Colby! Hey fuckers! Get over here 'n meet m' new favorite person!" Jon yelled at the two men walking towards you. You blushed at the sentiment, but turned to check out the two men walking your way. Jeezus they were…pretty?

One of them was huge, Samoan and god-like. He was about as tall as Jon, but his build was more muscular. His face was framed with a goatee that was obviously trimmed regularly. He wore a full tactical vest in black and black pants that seemed to accentuate his legs. His long black hair hung well below his shoulders and a visible tribal tattoo encompassed his arm all the way down to his wrist. You had tattoos, not that anyone saw them, but you knew that his work was at least 17 hours in the chair. That showed commitment. You had worked with many Samoan soldiers in the ARMY. All of them were very proud of their roots. During many of the smoke breaks, you would sit and listen to the stories of family and pride in their heritage in American Samoa.

The other man was the shortest of the three of them. His long curly hair was colored half blond and half natural brown. You snickered inwardly, hearing Top in your head saying that was 'way out of regulations'. He had a full beard, but it was trimmed to accentuate his face. His brown eyes seemed to bore into you, as if he could learn everything about you by just looking. He was also dressed in tactical gear, all black. Although he had muscles, he seemed to have that lean look of someone who didn't do as much weight lifting. You smiled at both of them and extended your hand.

"Hello, Alicia Price, nice to meet you," you said in what you hoped was a strong voice. After what just happened, your stomach was still a little iffy.

The Samoan man reached out first and grasped your hand in a firm handshake, then pulled you in for a hug. "Nice to meet you. Thank you for taking care of this lunk-head who apparently can't tell damn time or make damn reservations. I'm Joe." Jon huffed out a breath, grumbling something about new bags and stupid hours in small towns.

You giggled at that. "Actually, it's partly my fault. I did steal his bag after all," you said with a smile.

The other man, Colby, arched a brow at this. "You stole his bag?" He turned to Jon and pinned him with a stare, "You didn't mention this when we were talking earlier, brother."

Jon held up his hands in mock surrender. "I tol' y' there was a bag issue, jus' didn' tell y' that she stole th' bag." He turned then and winked at you. Shit, your stomach was never going to settle at this rate.

"At least you made it on time." Joe said, shaking his head. "H is looking for you man, you need to at least check in with him and then we are first up. We already got the locker room. Let's drop your bags so you can go see him while we take this lovely young lady and get her situated." He turned to you and smiled genuinely. You could see why the WWE universe liked these guys. They were cute separately, but together, ugh, no one was safe.

Jon sighed and bent to pick up the bags. You attempted to pick up your own, but he brushed your help aside again, picking all of them up like they had cotton in them instead of your military gear. He reached out for your hand again, and without really thinking you took it and followed him. Joe and Colby shot each other a look that you caught but Jon missed. You would have to ensure later on that they knew that this wasn't something… well to be honest you didn't know what this was. The four of you walked down the hall to a locker room marked 'Shield' and went inside.

The locker room looked like every other locker room you had seen, long rows of lockers, benches and a shower room off to the side. You were grateful that you always traveled with locks. You locked up your bags, only taking your wallet with you. You glanced down at your feet, fucking boots. You needed to change them soon, although the red was mostly gone from traveling. The suede was starting to look more like tan suede again.

While you had been locking up your bags the boys were in a corner having a conference. Their voices were too low for you to hear, but you did hear Jon say that you were 'a legit fuckin' hero' and to 'shut the fuck up Colby'. It twisted your heart to hear those words. Firstly, you weren't a hero, and secondly, you did NOT want to mess up his life in any way. You fiddled with the tear in your jeans while you sat there, not wanting to intrude.

Joe was the first to sense that you were done locking up your bags and he turned to look at you. "Hey, um, Alicia, right? Jon is going to talk to the boss for a second before he comes back to change. Did you want to get something to eat?"

Your stomach growled out at that, loudly. All three of the guys turned then and looked at you with huge grins on their faces. Dimples with bright blue eyes, brown eyes with stark white teeth and the bronzed god-like kind face all focused on you. You felt your blush rising up your neck as your stomach decided again to announce its lack of real food in too long.

"Ok, so catering first," Colby said with a grin. You didn't really expect him to be nice since he seemed to be against you being there, but it seemed genuine.

Jon came over to you and grabbed your hand. He pulled you toward the guys and leaned down to whisper in your ear so the guys couldn't hear.

"'S gonna be ok, cupcake. 'M not in trouble and I trust these guys with m' life. Heck, I trus' 'em with you. Go ahead and get somethin' to eat. I know you saw breakfast twice today." He grinned at that and you slapped his arm. Guffawing he stood up fully to leave. "'k I'll be back. Meet y' guys in catering. Keep her safe 'n sound, 'k?"

Joe looked from you to Jon and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, uce, no worries man. We've got this." He reached out his hand and said to you, "Come on, let's get you fed." Feeling more secure about the situation, you took his hand and allowed him to lead you to food, blessed food. Colby took up the rear and Jon split off from the group, apparently off to find the man named H.


	8. Chapter 8

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 8**

The catering area was in the back of the arena. You could tell right away that this was where all the wrestlers came to relax and get ready for their matches. There were tables set up and a long buffet of any type of food you could imagine. The serving trays were kept in warmers, piled high with numerous staples. Most of them were protein and carb heavy, but you understood that for an athlete. They needed the calories for the hard work they would do in the ring. It was the same premise as soldiers eating MREs with 1500 calories in them for every meal.

Joe kept a hand on your back as he guided you to the laden buffet. He handed you a plate first and then gave one to Colby. He finally took one for himself. You could tell that he was definitely the mom of the group, ensuring that his brothers got what they needed before he took for himself. It endeared you to him in a very special way. You felt good in the knowledge that when you did finally leave this place, Jon would be taken care of.

The thought of leaving to continue your adventure was unwelcome. It washed over you like a cold bucket of water. This was an odd situation at best. You had met a wonderful guy yesterday and today here you were a VIP behind the scenes of WWE. It was a bit much to swallow.

You put a piece of salmon on your plate along with some rice. The vegetables looked fresh, something that you hadn't seen in so long. Too long you had survived on military slop and hospital gloop. You almost groaned in excitement at the sight of legitimate dessert. After grabbing your plate of food, you followed Colby and Joe to a table where apparently the Shield usually sat. People were looking at you oddly, but the guys didn't seem to notice. Or if they did, they didn't say anything. You tucked into your food without really looking up. The guys seemed to take the hint and ate as well.

You sat like that in companionable silence until apparently Colby couldn't hold it in anymore. "So, uh, you just met Jon yesterday? On the plane? Seems awfully nice they just gave you a free seat next to a WWE superstar. Kind of convenient that you didn't have anywhere to be, and you had a car and all."

Joe kicked him under the table and Colby had the decency to look chagrined at his words. You smiled at them both, however, understanding that this was an odd situation no matter how anyone looked at it. You might as well get it over with now, before shit got crazier. In your best and sweetest voice, you began:

"Well, Colby, Joe," You looked from one to the other, "it looks nice when they upgrade someone in the military. I think they get extra bonus points from the government or something. And, for your information, yes, I did do a surveillance of the whole plane before I got seated. I made sure that I could find the one guy twice my size who I could easily take advantage of and made sure that I bought the same bag as him in advance. Being the sneaky person I am, obviously I stole his bag for my own devious purposes, quite possibly to place that tracker we military are so well known for. Also, being the rabid fan I am, I most assuredly wanted to follow him home and stalk him for life. Oh, not to mention, I ensured that other rabid fans held him up while I used my whiles on the lady at the car rental place and told her to close early so he missed getting a car. He was at my mercy then." You twisted an imaginary mustache at this point, staring straight into the eyes of both men. "Did I miss anything? Oh, yes, I also made sure to place a thumbtack in the wheel well of the SUV so that we could almost get into a car accident in the middle of bumfuck nowhere USA and I could look a hero. Oh, also, not to mention making sure that the town we stopped in had only one room so I could take advantage of your friend, who snores by the way. Although it did come with color TV, so there's my bonus." You chuckled ruefully.

You had said the whole speech with a small smile on your face, one that didn't meet your eyes, but still a smile. You understood these guys were just looking out for a friend, but seriously? How the fuck could you have fixed this whole situation.

Colby had the good grace to hang his head a little and mumble 'sorry' while he continued eating, refusing to meet your eyes anymore. Joe looked six shades redder than any tanned Samoan-god should ever look. He reached a hand over to you, but you pulled back.

"Hey, I'm sorry about him, and me. I'm sorry we thought badly about you. We just care about Jon. That's all. He's a big part of our group, but he's more than that. He's a brother now. We look out for each other. He has been super happy about meeting you, even when we said he was just being stupid about the whole thing. We just didn't want him to be jumping into something bad." He shrugged, but still looked remorseful about the whole thing.

You took pity on him and gave them both a genuine smile. "I understand, probably more than you will ever know. It is so important to have people at your six. Uh, I mean, people who have your back, you know? This whole situation is no one's fault. It was just a series of ridiculous events."

You looked down at your food, not feeling as hungry as you had before. You pushed your plate away and asked where the restrooms were. Joe offered to take you, but you shook off the offer. He seemed to understand that you needed a minute and pointed put the way. You got up, dropped your plate full of food at the dirty rack for catering and walked to the restroom to compose yourself.

When you reached the restroom, you went into one of the stalls just to sit for a minute. What were you doing? What the fuck were you doing here? It's not like this was your life. Your life was a sea of green and camouflage. A sea of blood. You didn't belong here with superstars who were on TV every week. You were plain and boring. You were a soldier, nothing exciting. Tears started streaming down your face as you thought about how you didn't fit in here. You were worried about rocking the boat for Jon. You didn't want him to have to deal with issues simply because some girl who was cracked up in the head decided she could give him a ride. Fuck! You needed to leave. This was getting to be too much. This was supposed to be a time to clear your head, a time to figure out how to deal with the past and choose what to do with the future.

The ARMY had given you two weeks of leave to figure shit out before you had to report back to base. You already had two days used, and you sure as shit didn't want to spend the next twelve days being thought of as some random chick who is trying to sleep herself into the limelight. You had dealt enough with people sleeping their way to the top in the ARMY. No more. No, you needed to leave. You probably shouldn't leave without saying goodbye, but you definitely needed to leave.

You wiped your tears and stood up to adjust your clothing. Taking a few deep breaths, you were shocked to hear a knock on the door.

"Are you alright in there?" A woman's voice came through the door. Her voice had a English accent and you took in her appearance as you opened the door. She was about an inch taller than you, but so pale. Her long black hair and striking dark makeup accentuated her beauty. Next to her you felt quite large and frumpy.

"Erm, yes," you replied, sure that your face was puffy red from crying. "I'm totally fine. Just had to, uh, well…" You trailed off with a wave of your hand.

She looked at you with compassion and understanding. She didn't try to hug you, for which you were immensely grateful. You didn't need hugs from random strangers. Well, maybe just from one random stranger.

"You were the girl that was sitting at the Shield's table earlier, yeah?" She asked in her lilting voice.

"Yep, that was me, Alicia," you said, feeling a bit more like yourself. You held out your hand to shake hers. You could do this; you didn't have to fall to pieces every time you went crazy.

"Oh, it is nice to meet you, my name is Saraya, but I wrestle under the name Paige. I haven't seen any girls with the Shield before. I mean, Joe has his girlfriend, but she lives in Florida and all." She talked like you had a clue about what she was talking about. "It is so nice to see them with someone new. So, how do you know them? Are you in development as a new Diva? I am sure I would have seen you on some circuit before this."

You held up your hand to stop the tirade of questions. Laughing you said, "Actually, it's a long story, but I was just helping out one of the guys. He needed a ride and I didn't really have anywhere to be. So, here we are."

She paused and looked at you intently. "So, you're not a wrestler?"

"No." You replied.

"You a big fan?"

"Actually, I'm not even sure what you guys really do. I mean, of course you wrestle. We had some USO shows with big names that came over to Iraq, but really they were just large muscly men who wanted to talk about death count and guns. Besides I didn't really get to see any of the shows, always had to work." You said.

Saraya laughed at this. She had such a pleasant laugh. "Oh my GOD! You have NO clue about any of this? I think I like you very much! I might just make you my new pet!"

You glanced down and your hands in embarrassment. "Uh, thanks?"

"No, thank you. It's so refreshing to see someone who doesn't have pre-conceived ideas about who we are behind the scenes. Believe me, those boys have people falling all over them all of the time. It is nice to see someone who doesn't know who any of them are. So, who did you give a ride to? Let me guess. Colby? No, he would have told me immediately, or at least told Mercedes." At my confused look, she pressed on, "Sasha Banks, the Boss? Oh, honey, let me take you around, please? Let me introduce you. Erm, wait, does that mean you came with Jon? Jon Good?"

You nodded, not quite knowing how to continue this conversation.

"Jon Good rode with you and is now hanging out with you? Does he, like, talk to you?" She asked, intrigued.

"Uh, yeah? I mean he kind of never shuts up, unless I'm going on some crazy rant of course, or if I ask for a little bit of quiet, I guess." Your face bloomed in embarrassment at that. You did not have any desire to describe your crazy to this woman, especially in the middle of the woman's restroom.

"Jon talks to you, and you don't know wrestling? Hmm." Saraya seemed to enjoy this more and more, while you felt more and more in the dark.

"Well," She said cheerfully, "let's fix you up and get you back to your boys then!"

"Not really 'my boys', but sure?" you replied.

Saraya and you walked back to catering just in time for you to hear a raspy voice that you were beginning to enjoy so much. It didn't sound like he was very happy, though, and you quickened your pace to reach him. When you reached catering, you and Saraya stood in the doorway watching the scene.


	9. Chapter 9

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 9**

"Wh' th' FUCK y' MEAN she left?!" Jon was yelling at Joe and Colby. The whole catering area had stopped eating and chatting amongst themselves and had turned to watch the show. Jon was leaning over the table, face red with anger. He was dressed like the other two men, in full black. He lacked the tactical vest, however. His torso was covered in a black skin-tight shirt tucked into his black cargo pants. His face was freshly shaved, and you had to admit that he looked even more cherubic. His blond curls looked mussed and slightly damp. You missed the stubble though, honestly. Joe and Colby were standing away from the table, but both had a guilty look on their face.

You quickly walked toward the table, before this became even more of a three-ring circus. "Uh, guys? Jon?" You asked softly.

Jon spun around defensively, but immediately dropped his aggressive stature when he saw you. He reached out to you and you walked into his arms. He wrapped you up in a too tight, all be it warm hug, humming while he rocked you both back and forth. He rested his chin on your head and closed his eyes. You just let him calm down. You knew this was needed. You could hear his heart racing in his chest. Shit, he calmed you down so many times in the past two days, you might as well give him some calm if he allowed it.

Joe and Colby stayed where they were, standing near their table. Saraya had followed you into the catering area, but she too stayed back and just watched the two of you. It seemed that the whole of catering was still on pause, watching the scene. However, soon a huge bald man came walking in to see what the commotion was. Apparently one of the roadies had left to get help when they heard the yelling.

"Fuck, cupcake, thought y'd left. I thought y'd left me. Thought y' got mad at the guys. Thought y' didn' say goodbye or nuthin'." Jon was whispering in your ear as he held you even tighter. You smiled into his chest and hummed in response, unable to speak pressed so close to his chest. Finally, you tapped his arm in order to get him to loosen his grip. He seemed to understand that he was holding on to you too tightly and loosened his arms.

As if he suddenly realized you all had an audience, he stepped back just enough to give you breathing room. But, he didn't step back far enough that he couldn't touch you if he needed. The bald man came up to the table, taking in the scene before him. He looked first at Jon, then Joe and Colby. Finally, his gaze settled on you. You squirmed slightly, understanding that this was a boss of some sort. You had been under review from top brass as well as top enlisted, you had dealt with authority. You knew that first impressions were most important.

"Hello, my name is Alicia Price, sorry about that. I believe we had a slight misunderstanding. Joe here gave me some piss poor directions to the latrine and I got a little lost. Saraya here was nice enough to point me in the right direction and then walk me back to catering. I deeply apologize for any disruption I may have caused, especially being a guest of your company. I do so much appreciate your allowing me backstage after all the trouble I caused one of your stars." You held out your hand during your speech, praying that neither Joe, Colby nor Saraya would contradict you.

The huge man looked down at you, as if sizing you up. He looked over to his superstars standing around watching the whole scene. Breaking into a large smile he reached out and took your hand in a firm handshake.

"So, this is the soldier who has my talent all up in knots. He came to see me earlier about you and filled me in. In fact, I had a few ideas I wanted to run by you if you had the chance. My name is Paul Levesque, but most people around here refer to me as Triple H." He looked down to see if the name had any meaning. Seeing no recognition in your face, he soldiered on.

"Well, this is quite uncommon for the Shield to be the ones in the middle of such a loud stunt in catering, they usually keep to themselves." He arched a brow in their direction. "Especially Jon. But, with the situation being what it is…" He allowed his sentence to drop off. Jon still stood close to you. You could feel the energy pulsing off him in waves. He was dancing on his toes, back and forth. He needed to punch something, probably, or vomit if he was anything like you. "We will hopefully see more of you, Alicia, and welcome to the WWE. Jon, when you and she get the chance, stop on by. John had a couple of questions for her as well."

With that confirmation that all was well, the stars and staff started back up on their conversations. Although, it seemed that those conversations were a little more animated now that they had new fodder for talk.

Jon put his arm around your shoulders then. He led you back over to the table that you had left earlier. Joe and Colby stood back for a minute, shocked by the whole situation. Jon looked at them and arched a brow. "Y' ain't sittin'? Y' still got food t' eat."

Both of the other men sat down at their plates, staring at you with slight awe and a little more respect.

"Thank you for that, baby girl, you didn't have to do that." Joe said after a minute.

Jon still hadn't stopped touching you, he dropped his arm from your shoulders and it was now firmly planted on your leg. He looked over at you and then back at the guys. "Y' wanna tell me what really happened?" He rasped out.

"Uh," you started quietly.

"Well," Joe said at the same time.

But, Colby overrode both of you with his nasally voice, "It was my fault, really. I said something stupid and she set us straight on the whole thing. Sorry for being an ass," he said looking in your direction.

"Hey, like I said, no harm no foul. I'd be a little leery too if someone just dropped into my friend's lap with all those coincidences. Besides, you don't have to put up with me for that long, I'm only on loan until Uncle Sam calls me back 'home'." You chuckled sadly.

Jon pulled a face at that, first at Colby and then at Joe. He sighed and started to shake his leg in earnest with his hand tapping on his knee. His face screwed up at the comment. He knew you were on a couple weeks leave, but with what you both had been through the past two days you were sure he didn't want to be reminded of it. To be honest, neither did you. It was nice to be here with him. Even with his boys. They were protective, and that was nice to see. It was a family of sorts.

You looked over at Jon, smiling, "Hey, no worries, ok? I didn't get mad. I didn't leave. I just needed a bit of a break. I met the lovely Saraya in the restroom and she and I got to talking. I didn't realize we had been in there that long until she said we needed to get back to catering. I promise," You dropped your voice so that only he could hear you, "I'll not leave without saying goodbye. I promise."

This seemed to calm him. His leg stopped going a million miles a minute. He still had his hand on your leg, but it did not seem to be the death grip trying to keep you from flying away. You smiled up at him. He grinned back at you. Ugh, dimples. Some day you should tell him those are illegal in many countries. He did look awfully cute without the two days stubble.

The boys finished eating and were told by a backstage intern that they were expected to warm up for their match. You didn't really know what that meant for you, so you waited until Jon turned to you.

"So, y' got a coupl'a options here. Y' can sit in the back 'n watch th' match. Or, H gave me a ticket if y' want, so y' can go out there 'n then come back. Or," He sighed, "y' can catch some z's in the locker room while we work hard."

You smiled at the last statement. You knew by his voice that this what his least favorite option. You could tell he wanted to show you what he did, maybe show off a little. Feeling a little spunkier than you had in ages you answered, "Well, gosh, z's certainly sound good. Zorro, Zelda, zoos, zigs, zags, zeal…" you were cut off by an arm around your shoulders and a huge hand tickling your sides.

"Ok ok!" you giggled, "I give! I give! No more z's. I swear, just stop with the tickling." Jon stopped the tickling but kept his arm around your shoulder. Joe and Colby watched the exchange with interest, but there was no reservation in their gaze this time around. They seemed to have accepted you into the fold. Well, one win for you!

Jon looked at you expectantly.

"Oh, yeah, um, well I don't really know how these things go. I'm not too keen on crowds right now though, maybe somewhere there isn't too much traffic. Just park me somewhere and I'll be fine."

This seemed to be the right answer, or at least one of them. Jon's face split into a huge grin and he started jumping up and down in his chair with glee. He even clapped his hands. You laughed at that while Joe and Colby rolled their eyes yet again. You had a feeling that you would be seeing a lot of that, but you knew now it wasn't in distrust or malcontent.

The four of you got up from the table and walked toward the door. Jon animatedly chattering on about the gorilla position and telling you about the masks that they get to wear tonight. Scary masks, he said, drawing his face into the meanest scowl you had seen from him. You giggled at what must be his fighting face. This garnered you three scowls.

"Oooh, scary," you said with a smile. Apparently giggling at a fighting face was just not done! Joe and Colby huffed in disappointment at your lack of reaction. Jon pulled you back from Joe and Colby so that he could talk to you before he went out.

"Hey, y' know, uh," He stuttered.

You looked up at him smiling. Yeah, you knew. You knew too well.

"Yes?" You said sweetly.

"Well, 'bout tha' shit earlier? 'M sorry. I'm th' lunatic, y' know? But I thought y' might've left 'n I jus'…" He waved his hand in defeat and dropped his head to his chest in defeat.

You took his hand in yours, attempting to get him to calm down. Shit, this was not the time nor the place for this fucking conversation. Especially when you had no idea what the fucking conversation was going to be about.

"Hey, Jon, look at me." You said.

He raised his head to meet your eyes. You brushed your lips against his cheek.

"Give me a scowl, put the mask on and go show me what you do. I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm not going anywhere tomorrow. I'm right here right now. Let's just have this, right here, right now, ok?" You patted his cheek where you had kissed it.

He grabbed your hand and held it there while he looked into your eyes. "'K, thanks. 'S jus' 'm used t' people jus' leavin', y' know? Jus' wasn't ready t' say goodbye."

"Well, this ISN'T goodbye, it's get your fucking ass out there and do some… wrasslin'? Is that what they call it?" you asked with an innocent smile and wink. You accentuated it by smacking his butt.

He guffawed and pulled you in for a quick hug. He then tugged you to the gorilla position where you could watch the action on the screen and see the stars come and go. Joe and Colby were already in position, pouring bottled water over their heads. You had to wonder at that, but whatever made them happy you guessed. Jon took a bottle himself and poured it over his head, he shot you a quick wink and all three put their 'scary' masks on. Some entrance music hit and they were out of the curtain down the ramp to fight.


	10. Chapter 10

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 10**

Your eyes were glued to the monitor. You had heard of wrestling, of course. You even dated some people who loved the WWF stars. You knew who John Cena was. Shit, pretty much everyone knew John Cena. Your mom probably knew him. You giggled inwardly at the worst 'your mom' joke ever. You never really understood the draw before. I mean, yeah, it's cool and all, but really? It looked so fake. The women were paraded around in bikinis and just gave your gender a bad name.

And sometimes, if you did watch the shows at the USO, you could see the guys speaking to each other behind their hands to inform the other person what was going to happen. You wondered if the masks the guys wore were so that they could speak to each other in the ring without people reading lips. You knew how to read lips, it was easier than having to whisper when an 'all quiet' went out if the enemy was near.

You watched as Joe, Jon and Colby stood in the ring glaring at another three men. These other guys were, well, you wouldn't peg them as wrestlers right away. One of them had a hat and a Hawaiian shirt? Really? Is that comfortable to wrestle in? And a rocking chair and lantern? You thought, yeah, it was cool and all, but really? Were people supposed to just believe that these men were real?

You guessed that these people didn't have much say in what they wore, though. The two people flanking Hawaiian shirt looked like they had crawled out of the swampland somewhere. There was a tall man with a filthy wife beater and some horrible blue dungarees on. He had lean muscles on his tall build and crazy brown hair with a long unkempt beard. The other man had on overalls and a sheep mask? What the literal fuck did these people do? Sheep mask had a long unkempt red beard and a bald head. He looked a little off in the head when he pulled the mask up and you would be ok if he wanted to keep the mask on, you thought.

Joe said something about 'injustice' and 'believe that' while Colby and Jon stood next to him. Jon was constantly moving. He bounced up and down, flexed his arms and balled his fists while Joe talked. Colby seemed to just take it all in. His body was taught and ready to pounce, but he didn't move. Joe was going on about how this was 'their yard' and there would be hell to pay when people came up against the 'hounds of hell'. Sheesh, how many catch phrases did these guys have? You smiled at the soap opera acting, but you had to admit this was very entertaining.

Apparently, Joe was taking too long and you might have seen Sheep man glare too hard at Jon because all of the sudden he was across the ring like a shot. He tackled Sheep man to the ground and straddled his chest while punching wildly at his face. His punches were pulled a little, allowing the arm to show more action than the man was actually getting. You could tell they weren't trying to actually kill each other, but you could also tell that this was more than a well-rehearsed show. This, this was different than the USO shows, the fake moves and the bad rapping. Apparently, a lot more than the 'F' had been changed in the WWE. These guys were definite athletes. They were not out there faking the moves, nor were they faking all of the punches. It was like watching fighting acrobats. Nice form, if you had to say so yourself.

With Jon actively fighting, Joe and Colby joined in. Joe went for Hawaiian shirt while Colby went to tackle grungy dungarees. The fray was getting out of control. You thought there were rules for these matches, but you hadn't even heard a bell ring or anything. Just talking and then Jon going crazy. Weren't there supposed to be referees? You didn't mind the show, however. It was interesting to watch. And, you had to admit, watching Jon in action was quite a treat.

The three men were able to get dungarees lifted up and in front of Joe. They all held on while they slammed dungarees down on the mat backwards. Soon, Hawaiian shirt rolled out of the ring away from the guys. He called for his goons, yes that's what you would call them, and they retreated back to where they came from. He spouted nonsense about 'Sister Abagail' and a reckoning, but the boys leaned over the ring ropes yelling about 'justice being served' and 'their yard'. Your found your pulse was racing after watching the action. It must be fun to see this every day. It was certainly better than what you saw every day. You would take this in a heartbeat.

The same music that the guys entered to played again while the guys all stood in the center of the ring. They each held out a hand to bump fists. You giggled at that. They looked so tough in their gear. You would probably have to inform them that those vests were, eh, not particularly helpful in real battle. They wouldn't be able to wrestle with the actual plates in them, fuck, you could barely move with a 70-pound ruck and full kevlar plates on half the time, let alone wrestle. Or maybe not, just let that one go. As they all slid out of the ring you rose from your position in front of the monitor. You were excited to see them and congratulate them on a job well done. They all filed through the gorilla, Joe then Colby and Jon taking up the rear. They had removed their masks and were covered in a mix of sweat and water from before.

Joe smiled at you and said, "Did you enjoy the show, baby girl?"

You grinned up at him and said, "Hell yeah, you guys do that every time? Shit, you must have so much fun! And I can see why you are in such good shape if you have to lift people over your head and slam them down on the mat."

Colby patted you on the shoulder and said, "That's called a triple-power bomb. It's our move. The crowd loves it. We were just in there to get the crowd going. We don't have an actual match tonight, so we're done for the evening."

Jon came over to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "So," he asked, his voice raspier than usual, "y' like when I fight?"

You laughed at this and rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah, you were great out there, mister big-shot superstar. I'm glad you let me watch you guys in action, though. It was fun to see. The snarling faces would have been just as good as the masks, though, I'm sure." You giggled.

Joe shot you a smile at this, his brow arched. Colby huffed out something along the lines of 'whatever' and Jon just grinned at you.

"Hey, so, 'm suppos'd t' bring y' t' H when we got some free time," Jon looked at you. "He kinda wanted t' talk about some military honors shit or somethin'," he mumbled.

You shot him a sharp look. You did NOT want to talk military honors with some huge bald boss man of a wrestling empire. You were nobody, not even a blip on anyone's radar in the military. You didn't even know if you were allowed to talk about anything, not that you really wanted to anyway.

He watched you quietly while you thought about what he had just said. He could probably see the gears turning in your head. "'s not like they're gonna do nothin' y' don't want 'em to." He said softly. "I wouldn' let 'em anyways."

You nodded at this. "Ok, sure, um yeah. We can talk to him. He's been pretty cool about letting me backstage here anyway. I wouldn't want to make anything worse for you after all the shit I've put you through."

You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt, bringing the cuffs down over your wrists. You could talk to the guy. Good grief, it was just a talk. And, if worse came to worse, you could just cut and run. You had nothing, needed nothing and right now Uncle Sam was picking up the tab on pretty much everything.

Jon paused at that, frowning, "Y' didn't do shit t' me, or cause 'ny trouble. 'M jus' happy y'r still here 'n y' enjoyed th' show. Let me get cleaned up out of this shit 'n we'll go see H, yeah?"

Clearing your throat, you nodded in agreement. "Ok, so, you change. Then we'll go? Sounds good. I'll, um," you looked around, "stay here?"

Joe and Colby chuckled at that, and Jon shook his head smiling. "Nah, y' c'n come with us. The boys here will be good, or I'll kick their asses." He pulled you in to his side and the four of you walked toward the locker room where you had stashed your bags earlier.

You opted to wait outside the locker room while the guys went in to do their business. You didn't feel like it was proper to have some random woman in there when Joe and Colby were changing. You knew Jon wouldn't mind, but you chose to be respectful instead. Besides, you needed a little time to sit and think. You sat down in a chair outside the locker room and stared down at your boots again. Jeez, you were starting to get a boot complex. You really needed to get some civilian shoes. You took inventory of your outfit and realized that it probably did not fit in well with the people around you. It was summer, and here you were in a long-sleeved shirt and long jeans and combat boots. You snickered at yourself, maybe you fit in more with the Shield than you thought.

You didn't get the chance to be lost in thought too long. Soon you heard Saraya calling your name down the hallway.

"Alicia! Hey, Alicia?" She called in her British accent.

You turned to look at her with a smile, noticing she was not alone. Flanking her sides were two drop dead gorgeous women dressed, eh if you could call it that, in red short shorts and very skimpy tops barely keeping their goods inside. They looked like twins, but one had significantly smaller 'enhancements' than the other. Did the shoestrings really keep those things in her top while she was wrestling? Their long brown hair was swinging with every step and their coordinated outfits and rock-hard abs accentuated their beauty making you feel quite out of place. Sighing, you stood, ignoring the shooting pain down your leg.

You plastered a smile on your face and held out your hand as the trio approached.

"Hey, so these are the Bella twins, and this is Alicia. The one I told you about? She's Jon's guest backstage," she said to the girls in a stage whisper.

You smiled genuinely at that. "Yes, hello, I'm Alicia. Nice to meet you."

The smaller of the two held out her hand, "Brie, nice to meet you." She smiled at you and you immediately felt like she was a genuine person like Saraya. You took her hand and shook it. It was nice when other women didn't just jump to judgement. Too many women were like that.

The other woman just looked at you and didn't reach out her hand. "Nicole." She said in a clipped tone. You raised your eyebrows at that, but said nothing. Apparently, the twins part didn't extend to personality.

"I was just telling the girls that we have a new pet to take around and introduce. We wouldn't want the boys to keep you to themselves, now would we? Especially with what happened earlier." You laughed at this.

"Uh, no, they're totally cool now, though. It's just all been one big cluster-fuck of a misunderstanding. I would totally enjoy being introduced around and all," Nicole arched a perfectly plucked brow at this, but you went on, "but I have to go see a guy named H with Jon, here as soon as they're done in the locker room. Another time perhaps?" You smiled at Saraya genuinely.

"Shit, you have to see Trips? Erm, well the best of luck to you. Girls, let's leave our new friend in the capable and probably most willing hands of our friend Jon." Saraya laughed at her own joke and at your blushing cheeks, you were sure.

"Thanks again," you said, totally embarrassed now. Good grief, these people definitely had their own world. It must be nice to be in this world where the worst thing that could happen was a bad hair day or potentially an injury in the ring. They turned away from you and walked back down the hallway, giggling among themselves.

You plopped back down in the chair. Your leg was screaming in pain now and your stomach was growling due to severe lack of food. Your scars were burning in your abdomen. You were tired, weary. Exhausted wasn't even the right word anymore, it was more than that. You just wanted to sleep forever. You leaned your head back against the wall, the chair in a position that you could see all the comings and goings. You didn't need to be surprised by anyone coming up on you. Sighing you closed your eyes, listening for anyone else who came down the hall. You would just wait for Jon to finish up.


	11. Chapter 11

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 11**

You swear you had just closed your eyes for a second, but you had drifted off. You were on guard duty, you weren't supposed to sleep. You were supposed to be alert. Guards who slept on duty died. You knew this, you had to stay awake during the fight. You had to protect the people around you. It was their turn to sleep, not yours.

Someone's hand was shaking your shoulder lightly. Panicking and forgetting everything but instinct, you launched out of your chair and grabbed the thumb and wrist of your attacker. You twisted it behind whoever was touching you, pulling their weight down backwards. You braced yourself against your attacker's back while you stuck your good leg between theirs. You punched with your other hand, hard, connecting with the other person's back. You grappled for your weapon on your waist. Where was your knife? It wasn't on your belt. You couldn't feel it. A couple good kidney shots in and you would be fine. Oh, fuck, where was your weapon?

You had heard their slight 'oof', and you knew that you had contacted their kidney with your punch. You raised your fist to keep punching but suddenly you realized that you weren't in the desert. You weren't in uniform; your heavy vest was missing. You weren't on guard duty. You were in a hallway, fuck your brain was fuzzy. The attacker wasn't even fighting back, he was just standing there. Solid. You smelled leather. Who wore leather in the desert? Where the fuck were you? Where was White? He was supposed to be on guard with you. Where the fuck was White?!

In the back of your mind you heard someone calling your name, telling you it was ok. Telling you to stop, you were ok. Someone called you baby girl, someone said cupcake. Cupcake? What the fuck.

You shook off the cobwebs in your brain and finally came to focus on the men who had just exited the locker room. Joe and Colby stood near the doorway taking in the scene in shock while Jon stayed locked in your grasp. He seemed to understand that movement right now was not the best course of action.

Embarrassment flooding your body, you dropped his arm and quickly stepped away. You instantly covered your face with your hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, fuck. I'm really so sorry." You were rambling. You couldn't stop the words coming out of your mouth. Tears had started to fall from your eyes as you rocked back and forth with your face in your hands. Your body was racking with the sobs coming from you.

"I'm so so so very sorry, please just, fuck, please, I'm so sorry." You continued as you hung your head in shame. You wrapped your arms around your torso, hugging yourself, and dropped back down in the chair. Your leg screamed out in pain, but you were grateful for that. It seemed to ground you. It reminded you that you were here; that right here, right now was real. Shit, you hated reality.

Fuck why did this happen? Why can't you just let the past go? This was just too much. Your body could only take so much. You were so tired. You were so very, very tired.

Jon did not move too far from where you had let him go, but he didn't reach for you either. You didn't blame him after the way you had just attacked him. Joe and Colby didn't move from their positions either, but the shock on their faces was replaced by pity. Ugh, you couldn't handle that right now. You didn't want pity. Not from them, not from anyone. You were fine. Well, you would be fine. Someday.

Jon slowly started to come toward you. He approached with small steps, like he had on the road yesterday. Fuck, was that only yesterday? Jesus, this guy certainly had seen you at your best, you groaned to yourself inwardly. He reached out his hand to touch you, but seemed to think better of it and instead crouched before you.

"Hey, 'sok, jus' me 'n th' guys. Jus' me. Uh, maybe we skip out on H 'n just get some air?" He looked at you with an understanding smile.

You appreciated the fact that he didn't go directly for questions or try to touch you right then. Fuck, you appreciated everything about this guy. He didn't push you, he didn't try to pry your story out of you. He just let you be you. The cluster-fuck crazy that you were.

You nodded, sniffling, still keeping your hands wrapped securely around your torso. You looked apologetically towards Joe and Colby. "I'm sorry guys, I really am. I'm just not in a good place right now. I'm supposed to be working through some shit right now, and apparently, I'm not doing that great of a job. I appreciate the backstage tour and the chow. You've been really sweet. I've just been in the way and caused enough problems for all of you." You turned to look at Jon. "Uh, I should probably just grab my bags and get on the road, yeah? I mean, we can't just have random strangers attacking famous wrestling stars." You smiled sadly.

He frowned at you. "'s not your fault. We all know that. Shit, what y've been through, 's not surprising that y' haven't killed Colby yet." He chuckled softly. He looked over at the guys and nodded his head in the direction of the hallway. They looked from you to him and nodded back.

Joe looked at Jon and said, "Don't worry about H, uce, we'll explain the situation." Jon smiled gratefully at him. Looking at you, Joe whispered, "It's going to be ok, baby girl," and patted you on the shoulder. Colby just smiled sadly at you and waved goodbye. Both turned and walked down the hallway away from your shit-storm of feelings.

You snickered at Jon's previous comment. "Nah, your guys are great. Better than great. I'm just so sorry that I'm a little crazy. A lot crazy." You lifted your hands in defeat. "I should just be on my way, though. I need to fix me a little. You don't need to be dragged down into my personal hell."

You looked up into his eyes, tearing up a little. "You've been great, believe me. More than great." You looked down at your feet again. "It's just not ok, you know? I'm not ok."

Jon tilted your head back up to meet his gaze. "Y' don' have t' worry 'bout me, cupcake. Seen m' fair share of crazy. Hell, th' boys 'll tell y' that I'm their fair share of crazy." He chuckled. You smiled at this. "Look, 'm not sayin' y' can't leave, but you keep goin' like you're goin' and somethin' bad might happen' t' y'. How's about y' just get a room for th' night and maybe make decisions tomorrow?"

You looked at him intently. You didn't really want to leave. You felt safe with this guy. Comforted by his manner. You hummed a little, trying to figure out if it was a good idea to stay. Should you continue with this adventure or go away and figure things out yourself?

He noticed you were calmer now. He stood up in front of you and offered you his hand. You allowed him to pull you to your feet. He opened his arms and you decided that a hug was not going to kill you. Shit, you'd already literally died six times before, you might as well make this one more pleasurable. You leaned into the hug as he wrapped you in his arms. You were getting used to the smell of leather and aftershave. It was a delicious smell. It was a comfortable smell. You could allow this, a little comfort. You could allow this for right now. You only had 12 more days, maybe you just needed a good night's sleep like Jon said. Yes, sleep. And some food, for the fucking love of god.

Your stomach grumbled and you felt your face pinken in embarrassment.

"Y' hungry? Didn't see y' eat earlier, n' we both know y'r breakfast didn' set too well. Why don't we just grab somethin' t' eat real quick. I have t' get a room for the night 'n I'm sure tha' y' need a place to stay too, even if y' wanna leave. Let's jus' take this a day at a time. Come on, let's get you settled in a cozy room so y' can calm down. But, this time, we'll find a hotel with an 'H' that's lit up, yeah?"

You laughed outright at this. "Yeah, yeah. I could definitely use some food. Make sure we get a room with a good color TV, too, yeah? None of that black and white shit for us. We're too good for that." You groaned, "My leg hurts pretty fucking bad, though. My stomach too. Ugh, I feel like everything hurts. Scar tissue is a bitch some days, you know? Would you mind driving? God, I'm tired." You let that last part slip out, but you didn't feel any embarrassment in the admission.

"We? Uh, yeah, your leg…" He cleared his throat. He seemed surprised that you talked about your injury. "Uh, yeah, I c'n drive, no problem. Let me jus' text the boys 'n see what hotel they're at. We usually stay in the same one jus' in case somethin' bad happens with travel plans." Jon said, quickly correcting himself before asking too much.

"Oh? Something could possibly happen with your travel plans? I had no idea! I thought that everything always ran so smoothly." You rolled your eyes at this. He chuckled and draped his arm around your shoulders again, leading you to the locker room to grab your bags.

Once both of you had your bags, he carried them out to the car and loaded them in the back. You had climbed into the passenger seat and were buckled in by the time he opened the driver's side door. He slipped into the car and tapped the hotel address into the GPS. You turned on the radio to a rock station, not really listening to the music, just hearing the noise. Jon didn't appear to mind that it wasn't country this time. You smiled at him and he pulled the car out onto the road.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. Jon seemed to know that after what had happened at the arena you needed the lack of conversation. You weren't really against conversation, you just didn't really know what to say. What do you say to someone who kept saving you from your mind? Do you thank them? Were you supposed to explain the issues every time? This man had heard more from you in the past twenty four hours than any of your therapists ever got out of you. And yet, he didn't appear to be going anywhere. In fact, it seemed that he actually wanted you to stay.

It was nice to have a new friend. In the military you made friends so fast because you were all in the same hell hole. You connected with people quickly, but you also knew that they could be gone just as quickly. Maybe that was why you didn't really question how fast you had become friends with Jon. He had his own demons that he had overcome to get here. He understood. It was comforting. You were at peace near him. It was nice. Like a heavy blanket in the cold, or like the sunshine on your face after a horrible night's work. It was good.


	12. Chapter 12

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 12**

This hotel was leaps and bounds nicer than the 'OTEL' you had stayed at the night before. Jon grabbed the bags out of the back seat and you both headed into the lobby to get a room for the night. The lobby was large and done in beige and white hues. There were a few potted plants around and you noticed a bar and restaurant connected to one side. You appreciated the cleanliness, especially after the rat hole that you had spent the night in before. Your limbs were aching with the amount of travel and panic that you had dealt with in the past twenty-four hours. You were ready for a hot shower and a bed, and some food. Maybe not in that order.

Jon approached the counter first, hailing down the front desk associate who was busy with a KitKat. The man noticed both of you and immediately dropped his candy, walking over to inquire as to what you needed.

"Hello, welcome, how may I be of service this fine evening?" he said in his most cheerful, customer service voice.

You smiled inwardly. This poor guy had probably seen his fair share of crappy people and situations. You had worked customer service before joining the military, you knew the drill. For all of your sakes, however, you hoped that this interaction would be simple and quick.

Jon looked at him and said, "Yeah, we need to get a place for the night. Wha's available right now?" You snickered at this; poor Jon was probably thinking back to yesterday when there was only the one room available. He probably felt guilty still. Luckily this place was a lot larger and seemed to have a ton of rooms. And, by the heavy chlorine smell coming from a door at the end of the hallway, you could tell it even had a pool. There were probably lots of vacancies.

Jon looked over at you with a guilty smile, but turned back to the attendant when he said, "Well, we do have quite a few rooms booked with the show in town, but I should be able to fix you both right up, no problem, I'm sure. Now," he continued, clicking on his computer keyboard, "what kind of room, or rooms, did you need? It appears we have a king suite or a double queen suite available, and," he paused clicking some more, "oh, we do have a couple single queen rooms available, but they are on opposite ends of the hotel. If any of those work for you, just let me know."

You looked at Jon, trying to read his face when the options were given, however he kept his face passive. "Uh, Jon? You have any thoughts? I'm cool with whatever. I have my credit card, so it's not like you need to get my room tonight. You want to…" your words got quieter, "split up for the night?"

He frowned at this, "No, I don't. Not really."

"Okaaay, so, we'll go with one room then." You smiled at him. Your heart calmed at the thought that he wouldn't be too far from you. Your chest didn't feel as tight. You didn't even realize that you wanted to stay in the same room as him again, but you did. You didn't want to be far away from this man, especially across the damn hotel. He was quickly becoming your security blanket. Ugh, Alicia, you needed to calm those thoughts. This was just a short trip. You were given this time to relax and figure out your path, not find some guy and latch on to him for dear life.

Jon smiled genuinely at your statement. Apparently, you weren't the only one who was enjoying the company. Your chest started to tighten again, but for a different reason. Fucking dimples!

He turned back to the hotel attendant and asked for the double queen suite. You smiled at this. It was nice that he didn't assume anything. You reached for your wallet to pay for the room, but he brushed it aside and offered the man his credit card. The attendant took his card and processed the payment.

You bristled at his assumption that he needed to pay for everything. "You do know that I have a job, right? I'm not destitute," you said to him sharply. "Shit, I'm getting paid right now for just standing here. You don't have to pay for everything. I mean you've been so nice to me, you know? At least let me pay for some of this shit! First the room last night, then breakfast, and now this? Jeezus, man, you don't have to pay my fucking way!" You hadn't realized that your voice had gotten almost to a yell. You were both still standing in the fucking lobby, for Christ's sake. Luckily there weren't many people around to notice, but you had garnered a few odd looks.

Jon turned to you and put his hand on your shoulder to calm you. You flinched a little, but didn't pull away.

"Look, I know y' have a job. I know y' have money of your own. But, this, bein' on the road, is my job. 'M payin' f'r hotels almost every night when we're on th' road." He said softly, trying to get you to calm down. "'Sides, since we're sharin' th' room, I figure I'll get th' room 'n y' can get dinner. That sound ok? 'M not tryin' t' take over y' life or nothin', jus' tryin' to help." He smiled again, a little smaller, but still a smile.

You sighed in defeat and hung your head. What the fuck was wrong with you? He was just trying to be nice. That's all this guy had been to you, fucking nice. Understanding. Calm as shit. But, you didn't need to be babied. You weren't asking for some fucking knight in shining leather to save you. Even if the knight had the most adorable dimples, cute blue eyes and smelled so fucking good.

"God," you sighed again, "how many times am I going to have to apologize to you?" You groaned and smiled up at him. "Ok, sorry, last time for a while. Truly sorry, though. I'm calm now. Thank you for paying for the room, again. And, thank you for getting the double. I really appreciate you and all you've done. I'm glad we met, even if it has been a couple of very strange days."

You leaned into his arm and he responded by tugging you tight to his side. The overly curious, however extremely polite hotel attendant had remained quiet through the whole scene. You groaned again. After this everyone in the fucking hotel would know you were crazy. You were just ready to sleep and start over with a new fucking day where you wouldn't fuck everything up again.

Jon finished up with the paperwork and got the keys to the room. He grabbed all the bags; you didn't even try to help this time. You might as well let it go. He was sweet, and this was his way of helping. Also, if you were truly honest with yourself, you appreciated it.

You both got in the elevator, neither wanting to talk just yet. He pressed the button for your floor. You followed behind as he led you to the room, inserting the key. Hearing the click, he opened the room and allowed you to pass through first.

You kept yourself from scanning for intruders, instead focusing on how pleasant the room actually was. Two queen beds with soft white duvets stood in the middle and a huge TV was mounted on the wall facing them. There was a kitchenette off to the side and a closet with two plush robes. Over at the end of the room there was a sliding door to the balcony. A balcony? Nice! The door to the bathroom was open, but you could see a large soaking bath and shower as well. Oh, lovely. Oh, how absolutely lovely. Warm shower and tub? You may never leave the bathroom tonight, you chuckled to yourself.

Jon followed you into the room and placed the bags by the dresser under the TV. "Which bed y' want?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh, uh, well if you don't mind, the one closest to the door would be great. I sleep a little better when I'm closer to the escape route." You said.

He chuckled at this. "Y' think y'r gonna need t' escape me, cupcake? I may h've been octopus limbs this mornin', but I swear t' y', I ain't gonna bother y' if y' don't want me to." He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and grinned.

You blushed at the memory. "Yeah, yeah, octopus limbs. Right." You smiled at him and said, "You know, for being some big TV hot shot, you're pretty tame. I mean, you could have done a lot of stuff so far, but you've been so nice. I mean, well, you know what I mean." You blushed harder and waved your hand to the side.

He guffawed, "Tame? 'M tame? Fuck me, I need t' work on my image a bit more then."

"Ok, ok," you laughed with him, "I'm seriously starving. Do you think that we could get some food sent up here? After this crappy, yet sometimes awesome, roller-coaster day, I don't have the energy to deal with the public."

"Tha's usually what I say." He snickered.

You arched a brow at this, "The public part?"

"Yeah, sometimes it gets," he paused as if looking for the right words, "well, a bit too much to handle. I like th' fans 'n all, but they tend to intrude when y' jus' want t' chill, y' know?"

You nodded at this. You could definitely understand not wanting to be around crowds. And this guy spent his life in the public eye, it probably was nice to not have his private life paraded out there for everyone to see.

"So, room service then? Where's the menu?" You asked, feeling better about the whole situation.

Jon looked on the bedside table and found the menu. He handed it to you first. You quickly found what you wanted and then handed it back to him to choose. "Just write what you want down on the tablet next to the phone, I'll call and order it so that they can use my card," you told him.

He nodded and wrote down his order. He seemed to write for quite a while, but you didn't question it. Maybe he was just changing what he wanted. You started to tap your toes impatiently. He looked over at you and grinned, then finished up his order handing you the pad.

"Steak – medium rare, Hamburger and French fries, baked potato – fully loaded, chicken alfredo, Caesar salad, ice cream sundae." You looked up to meet his eyes, "Uh, are you ordering for just you? This is quite a bit of food."

He chuckled at this. "Yeah, cupcake, 'm hungry. Worked this evenin', remember? Growin' boy needs food."

You laughed and rolled your eyes at this, "Shit, I probably would have gotten off easier just paying for the damn room. Would have been cheaper, Mr. fucking-order-the-whole-goddamned-menu Good." You poked your tongue out at him so that he would know you were joking.

He blushed slightly. "Well, pro'lly won't eat it all, but jus' in case, y' know? Sometimes y' get hungry after th' kitchen closes."

"Hey, no worries, let me just call down and then we'll get you fed." Your stomach growled. "Me too, apparently." You laughed.

You called down the room service order and were told it would be about half an hour before they would be able to get it to your room. You asked Jon if he would mind if you took a shower while you waited for the food. You wanted to get clean, and the warm water would do wonders on your aching body.

"Nah, no worries, take y'r time. If they get here while you're in there, I'll just sign your name. Price – comma – Alicia. Been practicin'." He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes at this and gathered your jammies and toiletries for the shower. Oh blessed warm water, here you came.


	13. Chapter 13

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *EXTRA WARNING* This chapter deals with scars, mentions of a coma, M*A*S*H, and probably some other heavy stuff to some people. As always, proceed with caution. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 13**

You stood in the shower, facing away from the showerhead, letting the hot water sluice over your back and shoulders. Showers while deployed had been hurried affairs with either too hot or too cold water. Sometimes, there hadn't even been water for a shower or actual showers and you had to hook up a bucket and pour it over your head while other people kept a lookout. Fuck, sometimes you even went for days with just the baby wipe 'ho' baths.

The water was heaven, you turned your face into the spray and let it wash through your hair and down your body. It hit your abdomen where your scars were and you brought your hands up to cover them. You hated the look of them. Even after six months of healing, they still looked red and puckered.

A twelve-inch scar ran vertically from your sternum down your abdomen from where they had kept you split open for days, cleaning out your wounds. Thankfully, you were in a coma during this and had no recollection of any of the surgeries. Fucking scar, it fucking split your lower abdomen tattoo design in two, unevenly at that. Numerous smaller red scars were on either side of the larger scar where the clamps had been to keep you open. You sighed. You hated how your stomach looked now. You hated touching the scars. They were over sensitive, but also weirdly not very sensitive at all. It was like you were in someone else's body.

Your arm had a two-inch scar in the elbow where they had removed the blood clot that formed during surgery. Why not? After all, your body had been through so much already, why not add a damn clot in the mix. Your thighs still had fading green bruises from the anticoagulant shots that you didn't have to take anymore. Thank god! Fucking shots hurt like a bitch. Luckily you were a medic and were allowed to give them to yourself. You still had a billion medications to take, but at least you didn't have to do any more shots. That was the only reason you were allowed to take leave now. You didn't have to take medication that was refrigerated. It was a small price to pay for freedom, a billion pills a day. You didn't take the narcotics, though. You hated those fuckers. They made your mind fuzzy and you felt like you weren't in control.

God, you were so broken. You felt like your whole body was worthless now. You thought you would at least get to keep your mind, if your body had to be taken from you. But apparently, after the last couple days, that had left you as well. Good grief, you sighed, you were certainly a sob story, weren't you? Man the fuck up Price; suck it up and drive on! Pain is just weakness leaving the body and all that jazz. Ugh, you hated those phrases. If they were true, then you weren't sure how much more of this 'weakness leaving the body' shit you were able to take.

Tears had welled up in your eyes during the shower, and the warm water was no longer comforting. You turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry off. The mirror had fogged up during your shower, and you wiped part of it clean. At least your face wasn't fucked up. Or your feet, you giggled inwardly. Maybe you could just find someone with a decent foot fetish who wouldn't pay attention to the rest of your fucked up body.

You turned around and glanced at your back in the mirror. Luckily nothing had happened to that tattoo. Your favorite. A huge warrior in full chain armor with fairy wings falling down the sides of your back, kneeling down while plunging a golden sword into the ground. He was posed in front of a burning town. You had worked with the artist, explaining what you wanted to express. He had worked with each idea and had made something uniquely you. You smiled at this. Joe may have his beautiful tribal work, but you had your own art piece on your back too. Maybe, someday, when you didn't hate yourself or your body so much, you could compare stories of sitting for your ink. Maybe you could even show this one off.

Realizing that you had been in the bathroom for quite a while, you donned your long-sleeved pajama shirt and long sleeping pants. Hopefully the food had come. You could certainly use it. Maybe you could steal a little of the ice-cream sundae too, you smiled.

Jon looked up as you exited the bathroom. He had removed his jacket and was dressed in a black wife-beater and his beat-up jeans. His boots had been removed and he was seated on the bed, flipping through TV channels looking for something good to watch.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you. Did the food come?" You said quietly.

"Yeah, I put it in the kitchen area for when y' came out. Figured we could eat together, 'n such." He smiled at you.

"I'd like that, thank you." You said as you walked over to grab the food out of the kitchenette.

You both sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard while the TV played some news in the background. You hated the news. It was never good. Most of the stories you heard were a skewed anyway. You knew of too many times that something would happen while you were deployed, only to hear that the United States had either gotten a completely whitewashed story, or one with totally different ending.

"You mind if we change the channel? I, uh, I'm not too keen on the news." You kept your head down while you said this. No need to add more into your pot of crazy.

"Sure, 's not a problem, there jus' wasn't much on. Some reruns of M*A*S*H were on another channel. I like th' show, but it bein' military 'n all, 'm not sure if y' wanna watch that." He said, grabbing the remote.

"Oh really?!" You asked, excitedly. "I fucking LOVE that show!" You gushed. "Oh my god! I had SUCH a crush on Alan Alda when I was in college. I used to watch every fucking rerun. I think I have most of the shows memorized by now. You watched too? Who was your favorite colonel? Mine was Potter. I think I like how he was smart, and real military. I mean Blake was awesome and all, and super funny, but he was such a doofus, you know?" Your food forgotten, you were waving your hands animatedly while you spoke.

"Did you know that if it wasn't for that show, we wouldn't be sitting here right now?" You asked him. He cocked an eyebrow at this.

"It's the truth! I only joined the ARMY to be like Hawkeye Pierce. I wanted to do what he did; I wanted to save people. I thought that joining the ARMY would be one silly joke after another, mixed in with some medical work, of course." You smiled.

Jon laughed at this, "F'r reals? Y' joined 'cus y' loved M*A*S*H? Well, fuck, cupcake, we better watch, if only so's y' can watch y'r true love. I'll try 'n not get too jealous." He batted his eyelashes and made kissy noises at you. Laughing, you smacked his arm. Ah, it felt good to lose yourself with this man.

He flipped the channel over to a rerun. It was a good one, where Frank goes crazy and Charles replaces him. You loved this shit. It was so silly, but also it felt like home. You both finished your meals in silence, laughing every so often at the antics of the characters on screen. It was comfortable.

Jon picked up the empty plates and took them over to the kitchenette. He came back over to the bed and sat down, but instead of looking at the TV he looked at you.

"Um, Alicia," he began, "look, I know I said y' don' have t' tell me nothin', but y' kinda scared me today with the fightin' shit." He smiled at you softly.

You figured this was going to come. It wasn't like you weren't expecting it, but, shit, you didn't want to get too far into it. You didn't want to say something that would ruin this friendship.

"Uh, yeah, about that. So, I have these really bad dreams sometimes. I can't control them, and they are pretty vivid. It's like I'm back there with all the bad shit. When I wake up from them, sometimes I don't know where I am for a minute. I've found that people touching me during this time is pretty bad. Mostly for the person touching me. I've punched a couple guys in the nose before," You laughed sadly, "and after today, we can add 'attacked WWE superstar' to that list too." You were looking at your hands while you spoke. You didn't want to meet his eyes. You didn't want to see pity, or horror, or whatever you thought you might see in them.

He reached out to touch your cheek. You turned to look at him then. You realized that he didn't pity you. He looked a little sad at your confession, but he wasn't horrified at what you had just said. At least that was something.

"Ok, so, how 'm I suppose' t' wake y' up if I have t'?" He asked softly.

"Well, um, you can call out my name, I guess. Some people have woken me up by tapping on my leg below the knee or on my ankle. That doesn't seem to bother me that much. I wouldn't go for the torso though, I tend to fight if someone touches me like that." You chuckled ruefully.

He grinned at this, "Yeah, figured that out th' hard way, darlin'. Nice kidney shots, by th' way." You smirked back at him with that admission. "Not sayin' I couldn't take y' in a fight, jus' that you put up a good one."

You laughed. "Ok, ok, Mr. Bigshot. I know you have, like, a good seventy-five pounds of pure muscle on me. You could have taken me down in a heartbeat. Thank you for not doing that, though. Thank you for letting me wake up from that hell before taking me down. I don't know how it would have ended if we'd actually had to fight it out. Probably with Mr. Triple H escorting me personally from the arena property." You snickered.

"Nah, we knew it wasn't y'r fault. It was obvious y' had no clue what was happenin'." He said tenderly. "Besides, where I came from, I understan' the need t' fight before talkin'."

You smiled at him. "Jon, seriously though, thank you so much for understanding this shit. Thank you for not pushing me, but also for listening to me when I need to talk. You had no idea what kind of shit-storm you were getting into when you accepted a ride from me. You've been more than awesome about every panic attack and," you chuckled sadly, "physical attack. At least I've made it," you waved your hand to the side, "uh, interesting?"

He guffawed at this and then sobered a little. "Yeah, cupcake. 'S been… interesting." He rubbed his fingers on your cheek. "I meant wha' I said before though. Captive audience and anythin' y' need. I don' jus' say that shit to say it. Y' c'n ask Colby 'n Joe. I'm not really th' talkative type. We pretty much stay to ourselves. Y' seemed different than everyone, though, y' know? Like y'd seen shit kinda like I'd seen. I mean, not 'xactly like I've seen. But like, maybe, y' understood what it was like t' be crazy."

"Yeah," you said as you patted his leg, "I understand being crazy all right." You laughed softly, "I understand it all to well."

Your eyes were starting to become heavy and you were so tired after the long day of emotions and travel. Jon realized how late it was and got up to grab his supplies for the bathroom and go shower. You took this time to move over to climb into your bed. Oh god, this bed felt like heaven. So many comfy pillows and the warm duvet cover engulfed you in softness. Your eyes drooped and you drifted off to sleep even before he was out of the bathroom


	14. Chapter 14

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *Extra Warning* This one involves conversation about a convoy being hit and the death of a soldier. As always, proceed with caution. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 14**

Someone was calling your name. You were running. You were running to them; you had your medic bag and you would be right there. Shit, they got Jones' vehicle. It was bad. He was a gunner on this mission, you didn't want him to go. He was a true battle, through and through. You had shared so many smoke breaks talking about your pasts and your families. You couldn't see him. The smoke was engulfing the vehicle. There was screaming; someone was screaming your name. You were yelling orders for a litter. There was so much noise. Too much noise. You felt someone grab your leg, but trying to shake it off and run to the vehicle, you kept going. You had to keep going.

"Alicia!" Jon was yelling loudly now while he rubbed your ankle and tugged on your foot. His raspy voice panicking in the dark. "Fuckin' hell, Alicia! WAKE UP! CUPCAKE! 'S ME, 'S JON!"

You bolted upright in bed, quickly pulling your knees up to your chin. You wrapped your arms around your knees and rested your head on them. A sheen of sweat covered your body. Sobs racked your body as you rocked back and forth. The room was in total darkness but for the light from the sliding balcony doors shining through. Jon was at the side of your bed, shifting side to side on his feet as he watched you. His hands repeatedly balled and un-balled in fists. He didn't touch you, but he watched intently as you brought yourself back to reality.

Your heart was beating too quickly in your chest and you couldn't get a full breath in. You started sobbing harder, tears falling quickly down your cheeks onto your arms. "Jones, fucking hell, Jones," you cried out softly. "Fucking shit fuck, you weren't supposed to even be on that convoy." You brought your eyes up to meet Jon's. "He wasn't even supposed to go, you know? He was supposed to be on the FOB. It was a routine run for supplies. He wasn't supposed to do those runs as a fucking gunner. He was a medic for fuck's sake. Who the fuck makes a medic into a gunner? Now he's dead. I couldn't save him. He had fucking kids! Two beautiful girls and a wife! And now, he's gone."

Realizing that you would probably take comfort now, Jon slipped in to sit next to you on the bed. He put his arm around you and held you close. He tucked your head under his chin and began to hum his random tune. You were starting to enjoy that humming. It was so calming. You leaned into his chest and let him calm you.

As you slowly stopped crying, he did not release you. He just held you tight and let you feel the warmth from his body. He was still rocking you, but not as much. He patted your back and rubbed his hand up and down.

"Wow, uh, fuck," he finally rasped out. "So tha's what y' were talkin' about. Y' want t' talk about it? Y' were thrashin' in y'r sleep and yellin'. I didn't wanna have y' keep re-livin' that."

"Ugh," you moaned, "no, thank you, though. Thank you for waking me up. I fucking hate those dreams. Some of them are real, you know? Like, some of them really happened. I see those like a movie. But, the fucktardary in my head sometimes mixes up people and places. I'm sometimes in a convoy that I was never in. Sometimes, they mix up the people who died with the people who didn't. It's a fucking hellish way to sleep, I can tell you that much." You chuckled sadly.

You pulled back from his hug and looked at him. His hair was all sleep mussed and he only sported boxers as sleep wear. His body was something to write home about, that was for sure. All muscle and a wonderful trim waist that you could fit your arms around perfectly. You blushed at that, and tucked your head back onto his chest. Here he was just giving you comfort and you were thinking of the man's body. Albeit a gorgeous one, but still.

"I got a question f'r y', cupcake." Jon said after a few seconds.

"Shoot." You said tiredly.

"Well, uh, y' see, uh," He couldn't seem to be able to put a whole sentence together.

You leaned back again, tapping your finger on your chin. "Well, let me see if I can answer that. Um, well, I do see? Not very well in the dark, but I can make due. Maybe I'll have to get some night vision goggles. Or are we doing the Anthem together? Oh, say can I see, through the balcony door's late light?" You smiled wearily.

He chuckled softly, "Oh, I see how it is, y' got jokes for a poor guy jus' tryin' his best t' help y'." He groaned and pulled you back into the hug. He seemed to like when he could put his chin on your head, maybe he was just too tired and needed the head rest. Hey, there you go, you could rent yourself out as a head rest if the ARMY thing didn't pan out. You snickered inwardly at that.

"What I was tryin' my damndest t' say, 'n failin' miserably at, was how come y' think y' didn't have any dreams last night?" He asked softly.

You considered his question. You didn't really know why you didn't dream last night. You had felt so safe and secure. It was a rat hole of a motel, and a shitty situation, but it all didn't matter last night. In fact, it was the first night in forever that you hadn't had a nightmare. Really, it was the first decent night's sleep that you had gotten in years.

Looking up at him, you shrugged. "Maybe because of octopus limbs?" you smiled, trying to bring some lightness into the situation.

He laughed at that. Even in the low light of the room you could see full dimples. Gad, this man! He could solve the world's problems with those. You just wished he could solve yours.

"Octopus limbs, huh? Never gonna live that one down, am I?" He chuckled softly in your ear.

"Nope," you laughed.

"Hey, that was th' first thing you ever said t' me. Your first word to me, y' know? 'Nope'. Jus' short and sweet. Well, maybe not so sweet. Hope it's not y'r last, though." He smiled.

"Oh yeah, you were all involved with your own world. Grumpy about the flight and all hunkered down in your seat trying to hide from fans. You looked all cute and shit, sure, but cranky as hell too. Cute, but still, you needed to be brought down a peg. 'Nope' was the best I could come up with at the time." You smiled back at him.

"OH? Cute, she says, 'm cute? Fuckin' break m' body with weights and workin' out every day in th' gym, and all I get is fuckin' cute. Well, f'r th' time bein' I guess I'll take it." Jon replied.

"Shut up, you know you're cute. You're a fucking TV star, some sports 'god' or something like that. You know damn well what you are. You don't need my praise. Although, I'll give it to you just this once. You have been so awfully nice to me, and all." You sighed dramatically, "You, Jon Good, are cute."

He guffawed and you blushed and tucked your head into his chest again. He rubbed your back a little more. It felt so good. God, you were tired, but being here in his arms felt so fucking good.

"So, my dear cupcake, are you." He said almost too softly for you to hear.

"Hey, you have to work tomorrow and you don't need me keeping your ass up any more than I already have. We should probably hit the hay and try again for a little sanity tomorrow, yeah?" You said, finally breaking the intimate mood.

"Well, if y' slept so well with m' octopus limbs last night, y' wanna try again? I mean, y' still have t' stay t' y'r side. None of tha' creepin' over t' my side t' take advantage. I know how y' military broads are, always tryin' t' take advantage of a man when he's sleep." You slapped his arm and he yelped in mock pain.

"Actually, sure." You said, after you thought about it for a minute. "I was pretty comfortable this morning. Maybe that's why I didn't dream so badly, or at all. Hell, you should rent yourself out to all the soldiers with PTSD as a co-sleeper." You grinned at this thought.

"Oh, Lord, cupcake. Let's just try 'n keep co-sleepin' t' jus' th' one vet. I ain't got a lot t' go around. I mean, 'm big 'n all, but 'm not sure about havin' t' make y' stand in line t' sleep wit' me. Doesn't seem fair t' have my favorite cupcake in withdrawal from all this cuteness." He winked with his last statement.

You rolled your eyes and giggled at that thought. Although, you could probably imagine that many women _would_ stand in line just to sleep in the same bed as this man. Thank god you didn't have to deal with that right now and he seemed to be just fine with you curled up at his side.

"Which bed y' wanna sleep in? I c'n jus' crawl in here, or if y' want we c'n sleep in th' one tha' isn't so hot and, uh," He stopped his description, seeming a little embarrassed.

You laughed then and slapped your forehead realizing that you had sweat all over the bed and it was a drenched mess. "Oh, fuck me, Jon. I'm sorry about all this. Oh, fuck, that was another apology, wasn't it?"

He laughed with you, "Don't know which question t' answer there, cupcake. Fuck me or th' apology."

You slapped his chest and motioned for him to get off the bed. He stood and held out his hand to you. You lowered your legs gingerly to the ground and stood slowly, accepting his hand in help.

"My legs don't work so well after sleeping a bit. They got pretty fucked up, so it takes a while for them to get warmed back up to moving," you said in explanation of your slow movement.

"I understand that. Been in many matches where y' jus' couldn' walk too well in the mornin'," he replied.

You both made your way over to the bed and he tucked you into the side closest to the door. You smiled at this. He remembered. That was sweet.

"Oh, 'n don't worry 'bout th' 'pologizing. It's 1:30am now. Tha' means y' lasted at least an hour 'n a half into th' day before y' apologized. Tha's a new record, it's gotta mean somethin', right?"

You groaned and said, "Good, get your fucking ass in bed. It's too fucking late, or too fucking early to deal with semantics right now. I just want to get some sleep, and I'm sure you do too. Come on, let's try this experiment out again."

"Good? I've been demoted t' last m' last name? Talkin' t' me like I'm a fuckin' soldier now. Oh great, now 've created a damn monster. At her beck 'n call 'n shit." He grinned at you but walked around to his side of the bed. He slid in next to you and laid back closing his eyes.

You looked over at him and smiled again. Fuck it, you moved over and laid on your side and placed your arm across his chest. You felt the steady beat of his heart under your hand and closed your eyes. He didn't move under your touch. Finally, exhaustion took over and you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 15**

The morning came with a pinging sound from Jon's phone. You lifted your head to look at the alarm clock and it read 10am. Eight and a half hours of blessed, dreamless sleep. He groaned and rolled further under the covers, pulling you tighter into his embrace. You had turned during the night and your back was to his chest. His arms held you securely in his warmth. You snuggled back a little, eliciting another groan from behind you.

"Y'r not playin' fair this mornin', cupcake. Said y' wouldn't take advantage of a poor guy." He grumbled in your ear.

You giggled at this. "Playing fair? I'm the one stuck right now, just thought I might get a bit more comfortable, is all."

He huffed a laugh in your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your spine. You wiggled a little again, seeing if there was any more reaction to be gotten from the drowsy man. His hand moved from your thigh to your hip, rubbing circles with his index finger up your rib cage and down to near the bottom of your sleep shirt. His wide hand splayed under your ribs and the warmth from his hand caused butterflies to start in earnest in the pit of your stomach. You were enjoying the intimacy, but you weren't quite ready for him to touch the body under the clothes, or see it for that matter.

He started to play with the bottom of your sleep shirt again, his fingers fiddling with the hem. Neither one of you moved from the spooning pose you were in while he just explored down your thigh and back up the side of your body again. You could tell by his stiffness in your lower back that he was more than aroused by the situation, but he was moving achingly slow in deference to you.

"This ok?" He rasped out.

"Yeah, just keep the fingers on the outside of the shirt, but, yeah, its ok. It's comfortable." You murmured. "I slept like a rock, Mr. Co-sleeper. Thank you."

He grumbled again, "Comfortable. Shit, cupcake. Y' know all the nice things t' say t' a guy. 'Cute' 'n 'comfortable'. I'm gonna hav' t' work a bit harder, huh? Make y' see how sexy this guy c'n really be."

"Oh, shut up, ok, what was I supposed to say? 'Why yes, it's the sexiest way I've woken up in years.' Or better yet, 'you're bar none the drop dead most gorgeous man I've laid eyes on in so many years that I'm wet at just the thought of sitting near you?'" You had turned to face him and were giggling with the words.

Jon's eyes blew wide at the last statement and he pulled a little away from your embrace. You laughed outright and patted his cheek. "It's ok, Jon, jeez, I was joking. I've been in the military so long that sometimes I forget how to act like a proper lady. People probably don't say that stuff so blatantly in your world. I know that I say some shit that is a little, uh, out there. I didn't mean it. I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He laughed loudly in the quiet room, "Nah, 's jus' wasn't expectin' t' hear that from y', is all. Kinda caught me off guard. Fuck, I hope y' meant it." He waggled his eyebrows at you. "'M not uncomfortable in any way. Well, maybe in a little way." He chuckled, motioning at his groin.

"Hmm?" You giggled again. "Me thinks it might not be so little." With that statement you rolled out of bed and walked over to your bags to grab your toiletries and the day's outfit. He groaned and dropped his head back onto the pillow. You strolled into the bathroom to get ready, shaking your hips a little as you went, hoping he was watching you go. Without a backwards glance to the man in the bed, you closed the door and started your morning routine. This guy was doing wonders for your confidence.

When you had finished with the bathroom you came out to see Jon dressed in gym shorts and a wife-beater. He was seated on the bed looking down at his phone. He looked up to see you and his face split with a huge smile. "Jus' readin' the texts from the guys. They wanna meet up 'n go t' the gym for a workout before th' we head over for tonight's tapin'. Y' wanna come?"

"Ugh, no thank you. I'm not really gym material right now. The most the doctors say that I'm allowed to do is walk at a sedate pace on a treadmill, and that gets fucking boring after five minutes. Even if I did have a good show to watch with the three of you working out, it would still be kind of boring. No offense." You said.

He grinned at the thought of being a good show to watch, but then his smile dropped a little. "So, we've kinda come a bit far in the past coupl'a days. I think 'm gonna pro'lly break the promise o' not askin' about some shit. Y' keep talkin' about stuff 'n droppin' shit on me that gives me a million questions t' ask. I'm not tryin' t' pry, but if we're gonna do shit together, I kinda 'm gonna want t' know more about y'. Especially 'bout what's ok 'n not with y'r body 'n shit." He blushed a little at the last statement.

You walked over to the other bed and sat down facing him and sighed. "Yeah, I know. You've been super fucking great about all of this. You deserve answers. You're going to the gym? How long do you usually work out? If you want, we can get some food after the gym and we can actually just talk then. Just the two of us, though, ok?"

He breathed out a sigh of relief that you hadn't pushed away at his request for questions or been offended. "Joe 'n Colby are on th' way t' get me. We'll pro'lly be gone 'bout an hour 'n a half or so. How's about lunch at whatever restaurant is near the hotel?"

You smiled at him, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll keep myself busy for a while. I should probably find a store that sells cell phones or something. My parents haven't heard from me in a while, and I know they're worrying."

He beamed back at you with this and handed you his phone immediately. "No need t' leave th' hotel jus' yet. Use mine. Call 'em. They're pro'lly fuckin' worried as shit. I'll go with Colby 'n Joe and then come back up 'n grab y', 'kay?"

You took the phone from his outstretched arm and he held your hand in his for a few seconds. He looked softly into your eyes and just smiled.

"You going to give up the phone, Good?" You blustered while blushing.

"Fuckin' hell, cupcake, don't demote me 'gain." He cackled.

Just then a knock on the door announced the arrival of the guys. Jon stood to answer the door, allowing them to enter. They looked at the room, probably checking to see if both beds had been slept in. It was cute how much they worried about their friend. Luckily, both beds looked mussed and slept in.

"Hey guys, lemme jus' brush my teeth 'n then we c'n head on down. Alicia's gonna stay up here while we work out, even if we do put on a good show." He shot a wink at you and then ducked when you shot a pillow at his head. He quickly ran into the bathroom whooping and slammed the door before any more projectiles could be launched his way.

Joe smiled at the antics and arched a brow your way. Colby shifted slightly at the scene, but smiled lightly.

"So, baby girl, are you feeling better after a good night's sleep?" Joe asked in his deep voice.

"Oh, yeah, I feel much better today. I've only got two random attacks planned for later on, so no worries there. But, Jon says I'm not allowed to attack either of you anymore, so we'll have to find some rando somewhere that I could potentially actually take down."

Colby barked out a laugh at this. "Like you could take me, I'm the architect. I'd see you coming a mile away."

You smiled his way. These guys were family to Jon. You wanted to make them feel as good as possible about this whole situation.

"That's good; that's good, baby girl. We were a little worried about you yesterday. I don't have much experience with PTSD, but from what I read about last night it can be a bitch."

You blushed and glanced down at your hands. Joe had gone back to the hotel and read about your diagnosis? That was… sweet.

Jon exited the bathroom and clapped both the guys on their shoulders. He stood between them while looking down at you. "'Kay, cupcake, we'll be downstairs. Joe's number 's in my phone. If there's any problem jus' call him. Y' can jus' call 'n I'll run right back up."

Colby and Joe looked at him during his speech, a little shocked. Giving up your phone in this business must mean much more than you had originally thought. They must really guard their privacy. Either that, or they must have been burned badly before by giving out their phones to people who had ulterior motives.

You smiled at them all and gave a small wave, "Have fun. Sweat buckets and think of me fondly." You stuck your tongue out at Jon. He smiled back at you and waved as he ushered the boys out the door.

You glanced down at the phone in your hand. You needed to call them. You should tell them you were ok. They were worrying. You knew that. Your finger hovered over the phone icon for a few seconds before pressing down and dialing. You knew the number by heart. Your parents were probably the only people in the whole world who still had a land line. Luckily, it was the same number that you had known since you were nine years old.

The phone rang a few times before the answering machine picked up. 'You've reached the Prices, leave a message!' your mother's cheery voice instructed you.

"Hey mom, hey dad. It's Alicia. I'm safe and on leave finally. My health is fine. I'm keeping up with my medication and everything. I'm sorry that I didn't come to see you during leave, but I needed some time to myself." You could feel your throat starting to tighten with emotion at every word. "I'm traveling through the Midwest right now. The scenery is beautiful and I'm having a grand adventure. Dad, you're always telling me to keep adventuring. You would be proud. I love you both very much. I still don't have a phone, but as soon as I get one I'll let you know the number. Tell Erica hi. Tell her that her sister is fine. I lo.." The machine cut you off with a beep.

You sighed and put the phone back on the bedside table. Well, at least they knew you were safe. And what they didn't know, well, they really didn't need to know right now. You turned on the bed to sit with your back to the headboard.

You sighed again, how long did an hour and a half take? Maybe more M*A*S*H was on TV. You grabbed the remote in hopes that you would find something to keep your mind off the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Hopefully the boys would be back soon, you were hungry and missed having Jon with you. It was amazing that you could miss him after only knowing him for two full days. You smiled to yourself, yeah, you missed him though.


	16. Chapter 16

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 16**

Exactly one and a half hours after he had left, you heard the key snick in the lock. The door opened and Jon walked in. A grin split his face when he saw you seated on the bed that you had shared the night before.

"Well, hey there cupcake, y' miss my face?" His dimples were out and you couldn't help but beam back at him before schooling your face into a mock scowl.

"Me? Miss you?" You brought your hand up to your chest in mock distain. "When I had all this Antiques Road Show to watch? Never! In fact, you could have been gone for hours before I even noticed. What has it been, five or so hours? Hmm, nope, not missing you at all." You giggled.

He growled at that and launched himself on the bed next to you. He smelled like sweat and man. And something purely Jon. He smelled delicious.

"Even after I made Colby keep 'n alarm 'n shit? Th' guys gave me hell f'r that 'n everything. Well, shit, I guess I'll jus' stay longer next time if y'r not even gonna miss me." He chuckled at the blush that had bloomed on your face.

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and leaned in for a quick kiss. It was just a brush of his lips over yours, but your heart skipped a beat. Sighing into a smile you reached your hand into his hair to pull him forward, but he leaned back from you.

"'M nasty right now. Let me shower real quick 'n then we c'n get some grub, 'n other stuff." He winked at you.

You shrugged, "It's not like I haven't been in a fucking desert before where I was sweaty every goddamned day. Of course, it's not like I was making out with too many people over there, so I guess you have a point. Onward to shower yon gym warrior! I will hold down the fort whilst you preen for me." You giggled.

He guffawed at your statement and poked his tongue out at you. Swiftly grabbing his clothes, he headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. It did not take long and soon he was out, ready to go to lunch. He stood there in a black t-shirt and faded blue jeans. Black boots and a black leather belt finished the outfit. You enjoyed the perusal of his body, but your stomach was rumbling and you were ready to go. You stood from the bed waiting for him to go first, but Jon just looked at you for a minute.

"Uh, you ready? Or are you just going to stare at me?" You asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious. You looked down at your long-sleeved shirt and jeans and combat boots. Ok, it was a pretty boring outfit, but it wasn't the worst you'd seen.

"Cupcake, 's like 95 degrees outside 'n fuckin' humid 's hell. Don't y' have some, like, cooler clothes? 'M not sayin' nothin' bad 'bout y'r outfit or nothin', but it looks a little fuckin' uncomfortable for th' weather here." He said softly, probably scared about the reaction he might trigger with his comments.

He quickly added on, "Not that 'm worried 'bout bein' seen with y' or nothin'. I jus' don' want y' t' faint or nothin'." He was blushing in full now and you were going to have to say something or he would probably ramble his way back into the bathroom and hide from embarrassment.

"Jon, look, I do have some short-sleeved shirts, but, eh…" You moved your hand side to side, "this body is not really ready for public view? Yeah, I guess that's the best way to say it. I have some pretty shitty scars, and I don't like to be stared at." You were mumbling the last part and he had to move in closer to hear.

"Scars? Well shit, Alicia, everyone has fuckin' scars." He said with mirthless laughter. "Shit, 've got fuckin' scars. A fuck ton of 'em. Fork scars, chain scars, light tube scars. I know y've never seen my old matches, but I got pretty fucked up in th' ring, like I tol' y'." He was pacing now while his hands were gesturing madly. He wasn't angry, but his tone was forceful.

You felt so bad for this guy, he was just trying to make you feel better. Everything he had done was to make you feel comfortable. He hadn't crossed any lines that you didn't want him to. He was making sense.

Shit, ok, you could do this. It had been six months of long sleeved shirts, who was really going to care about your arm scars now. You would have to wear regular clothes eventually. Jon was good at reminding you that you were ok, even though you weren't. It would be ok.

You smiled up at him and walked over to stop him from flailing and pacing. Putting your hands on both his arms you stood in front of him and said, "Ok, you're right. The shirts only though. I'm not ready for shorts and I don't have any other fucking shoes besides these damn combat boots anyway."

He hummed in response and nodded. "I'm not tryin' t' change y', like I said. Jus' kinda worried 'bout y'r health 'n all." He looked like he was stuck between wanting to run and hide from you and bundle you up to keep you safe.

You opened your arms and he walked the rest of the way into them. You both stood there for a minute, relishing the feel of each other, while you each collected your thoughts. At least he wasn't going to let you live in your sorrowful self-pitying bullshit. It was nice to have someone call you on that.

"Ok, let me see what I have in my bags that isn't a full head to toe outfit. I think I have a decent sleeveless shirt or two that I used as undershirts. Let me do a quick change, yeah?" You left his arms and went to dig in your suitcase. Grabbing a sleeveless shirt, you trudged into the bathroom to change.

After putting on the tank top you gave yourself a once over. In the mirror you saw that your arm scar was red, and where the stitches had held the incision together there were little red offshoots of scars. It looked like a weird healing centipede, but it wasn't really that bad. Your Celtic wrist tattoos were showing and the Celtic knot on your forearm stood out against your pale skin. Actually, with this shirt you could see the top of your back tattoo. You smiled at being able to show it off.

You changed your hair into pigtails that fell down your back. With the hair split in the back, even more of the tattoo could be seen. The fairy wings flew up on your shoulder blades and the burning buildings in the background were visible. Mustering up your strength, you opened the door to face the music.

Jon was sitting on the bed again, waiting for you to come out. He looked up at you and his jaw fell open a little. You smiled shyly at him and ducked your head, "Yeah? They're that bad, huh? Maybe I should go put my long-sleeved shirt back on?" You giggled at his stare.

"Fuuuck me, cupcake, y've been holdin' out on me. Shouldn' keep a body like that all covered 'n shit. Especially wit' all the pretty art 'n shit on it." He grinned up at you.

You blushed even more and slapped him on the arm. "Come on Good, get me fed and I'll tell you all the gory details of all my scars. And maybe of my tattoos, if I'm feeling chipper enough."

"'M regrettin' tellin' y' we were gonna eat before th' ''n stuff'." He snickered, but took your hand and stood. You both walked to the door and he flipped one of your pigtails. "Hey!" He exclaimed, "Y've got one on y'r back too? Looks cool as shit, well, what I c'n see of it. Are those wings?"

"Play your cards right, mister, and maybe you'll see the rest of it someday. But, now, food!" You laughed.

"Alright, alright, Jeez, food first m'lady. After you." He opened the door and ushered you out to find a decent place to eat and talk.

There was a small café down the street from the hotel. It was quiet and touted the best latte around. You both ordered at the counter and Jon offered to wait for the food if you wanted to grab a table. Finding the table furthest in the corner you sat down and scooted your chair so that it was facing out so you could see everyone.

People went about their day around you, not seeming to notice anything untoward. Maybe Jon was right. Everyone had scars. It's not like you were the first person in the world to have something happen to you.

Jon traipsed back over to you with two trays. He plopped down in the chair next to you and pushed your tray in front of you. A large sandwich piled high with toppings and an iced tea that looked delicious. A bag of kettle chips and a large pickle rounded out the plate.

You smiled at him in thanks and picked up your sandwich to silence your grumbling stomach. He followed suit and for a while you ate in silence. You kept looking around, trying to find anyone who was staring, anyone who noticed the scars on your arm. You felt so exposed, yet sitting here with Jon you didn't feel like anyone would say anything. No one did. No one even noticed you.

You had eaten a decent portion of your sandwich and chips and were sipping on your tea. You pushed your pickle to the side, hating the things. You looked up at Jon. He had finished eating and was watching you. You felt a little self-conscious under his gaze, but you had promised answers. He deserved them.

"So, questions. How about you ask, and I'll answer." You said.

He nodded and started to open his mouth before you interrupted, "But! I get two vetoes to your questions. No matter what they are, I get to say 'veto' and you have to move on, deal?"

He laughed, "Sure, sounds good. Ok, first one. What happened to y'r leg?"

"Ah, I knew that was going to be your first one." You snickered to yourself and he looked at you a little puzzled. "I'm sorry to say It's the most boring answer of all of them though. You're probably going to hate the answer." You chuckled, "I hurt it playing soccer with my unit."

"Y' fuckin' what?" He guffawed. "Here I thought y' had gotten hit durin' a attack or some shit. Y' were playin' fuckin soccer?" He slapped his hand on his thigh, his laughter bringing tears to his eyes.

"Are you quite done?" You asked in your best schoolmarm voice while arching your brow.

"Yes," He wheezed out, "Yeah, 'm sorry. Jus' wasn't what I thought y' were gonna say."

"Yeah, well, I had some guys in my unit who didn't like the way that I did things. I guess they didn't like taking orders from a woman or something like that. Maybe they just didn't like me. Either way, they weren't able to take me out in any other way, so while we were playing as a unit they ganged up on me. One hit me one way and the other matched it from the other side. They were about as big as you, but believe me you're way better looking. I wouldn't mind so much if you hit me with a side tackle," you grinned.

"I flew about three feet in the air and fell down onto the ground, hard. I hit my head and landed badly on my back and hips. Permanently ruined them, fuckers. Couldn't walk right after that. Wasn't hurt bad enough to get out of a second deployment, but it was bad enough that I can't run anymore. Got a fucking concussion for my trouble as well." You chuckled mirthlessly.

Jon's face had clouded over in a mask of anger. "They fuckin' did what?" He all but shouted. He realized his outburst would bring unwanted attention and lowered his voice. "Jus' 'cus y' were a woman? Fuckin' shit, stupidest fuckin' men ever. Didn't they know how fuckin' special y' are?"

"Hey, it's ok. It was a couple years ago. Don't worry about it. I've lived with it for this long, and it's not even the worst of the damage. If you can't handle this, maybe we should stop. We can just talk about the weather." You smiled sadly at him and patted his arm, "I hear it is going to be 95 and muggy today."

He chuckled a little at that and said, "No, I want to hear. 'M sorry y'r here telling me personal shit and I didn' even react right." He sighed, "Mind if I ask some more?"

You grinned at this, "Sure, keep 'em coming."


	17. Chapter 17

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *Extra Warning* This one talks about death, guys and a little bit of Princess' Bride. As always proceed with caution. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 17**

He leaned back in his chair and looked at you as if figuring out what he wanted to ask next. "Well, let's see." He paused and then said, "this mornin' y' said y' wanted me to keep my hands over y'r shirt." He finally said.

"Was there a question in there, hot shot? Maybe you should go back to school and learn how to properly phrase them," you chuckled.

He arched a brow and poked his tongue out at you. "Right, right. Real funny stuff. Have y' ever thought 'bout becoming a comedian?"

You laughed outright, "Was that a serious question? I'm going to have to put a limit on questions if you keep tossing in silly ones."

"Nah, shut up. Y' know what I meant. Why?" He asked softly.

"Erm, slight veto here. I'll answer half of it. My stomach is where I got the worst of my scars. I'm still a little iffy about the whole thing. You've been great for my confidence, though. I wouldn't have been caught dead in a tank top even a week ago. No one except doctors and nurses have seen my body in months." You smiled sadly. "I tend to keep people at arm's length. In fact," you looked up into his eyes, "you've gotten to see and know more of me in the past two days than anyone has in ages."

He smiled at this. "Yeah? 'S good." He touched a finger to your cheek and ran it down your chin. "Y' need a friend. Someone y' can let it all out t', y' know? I have the guys t' rant t' all the time, not like they appreciate a good rant when they hear it." He chuckled at his own joke. Then he paused, "Wait, what was the part y' wouldn't answer?"

You grinned in earnest, "That, Mr. Good, was my partial veto and you will just have to move on." You winked saucily at him and he snickered.

"Alright, easy one here. Who's your favorite wrestler?" He grinned and his tongue poked out the side of his mouth.

"Oh, gosh, that's a hard one. I know so many," you said and he rolled his eyes at that. "Well, honestly, I would have to say Andre the Giant." You smiled.

"Wait, what? Oh, cool." He seemed a little disappointed, but continued. "Yeah? Uh, why?" he fumbled for complete sentences, obviously thinking that you were going to say that he was your favorite.

"Oh, I love the Princess' Bride. I've seen that movie so many times I could quote the whole thing. It has a good quote for every situation. And if all else fails, yell 'inconceivable!'. He could kill you with a rock right where you stood, you know. But he wanted to make it even. Fight man to man. Also, he had some sick rhymes," you laughed.

Jon laughed at that, "Kinda thought y'd choose someone y'd met a little more recently, cupcake, but I'll take that answer."

You took a sip of your tea while he leaned back in his chair. He tapped his finger on his chin and then dropped his chair back down. "Ok, here's one y' might veto right out, but I jus' gotta know. Th' other day y' said y' died. Did y' mean really died? As in 'gone gone'?" His voice was serious and he was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands.

"I was wondering when you would get to that one. I've said so many crazy things to you in the past couple days it's hard to remember what exactly I said. Well, lucky for you, no veto here. Yes. I've died. As in 'gone gone'. Six times. They had my family ready with the chaplain so many times I'm pretty sure that they were planning on getting a room in the chapel so that they didn't have to come and go every time the doctors lost me. I think all in all I was dead for, like five minutes spread out. Uh, they were all during surgery, the deaths." You looked at him with a little pity, "So, it's not like I got shot in the head or anything. Also, I'm not a zombie, as far as I know, so no worries there." You snickered.

Jon breathed out a breath you were sure he didn't know he was holding. It came out in a whoosh and he reached out to grab your hand. You let him. People didn't hear too often about others dying and coming back. It was hard to hear. It was probably harder to hear than it was to endure.

"Hey, I'm here right now, right? I didn't stay dead. I'm pretty fucking hard to get rid of, apparently. Maybe you should call me 'kitten' instead of 'cupcake'," you smiled at him trying to bring a little humor into the situation.

He just looked at you for a minute and then moved his chair closer to you. He put his arm around you and leaned into your head. Taking in a deep breath he whispered, "'M glad y' didn't stay dead, cupcake. 'M fuckin' glad y' didn't stay dead. 'M so glad y'r here wit' me, right here, right now."

You leaned back into his arm and stayed quiet for a while. You didn't want to get in to what happened after you woke up. You didn't want to get into what happened before you died, but talking about dying, eh… that was no biggie. Both of you sat like that for a few minutes. You assumed that he would pull away and ask more questions, but before you were able to keep talking you heard someone calling out his name.

"Jon?" A sickly sweet feminine voice called over to him. "Oh, hey Jon! Look honey, it's Jon and his little soldier friend from yesterday."

Looking up you saw the half of the Bella twins that made your skin crawl. She was dragging a huge ball of muscle towards your table. He was dressed straight out of the '90s. Jean shorts and a 'Respect something or other' t-shirt. He even had a matching 'respect' hat. Was that a fucking sweat band on his arm? You rolled your eyes and prayed to whatever deity that looked out for you all these years that you would be swallowed whole into the ground. Ugh, so much for lunch alone.

You quickly pulled away from Jon's embrace and moved your chair so that there was more room between the two of you. He looked at you with a puzzled look on his face, but accepted the movement and let you go. He sighed deeply and looked at the two wrestlers who had just walked up to your table.

"Hey Nicole, John, how's things?" he asked without much enthusiasm.

Obviously, they were unable to read the situation, or maybe they could all too well. They smirked at each other and then looked at the two empty chairs. Inviting themselves to sit at your table, the man reached out his hand to you.

"Hello, the name's John Cena. I'm sure you've heard of me. I know you're a soldier who came from Iraq. Trips told me all about you. A hero, huh? You should come hang out with me for a while. I can show you what we really do around here. Did Jon tell you that I went over there? Of course, he did. Oh yeah. I've been over there and did tons of shows for the troops. They got to see me at my best, the face of the WWE. It was pretty cool. I got to see all the weapons. Those guns are pretty awesome, huh? Pretty much everyone came to see me at the USO shows. They loved me over there." He prattled on and on about how wonderful he was.

You were quickly losing patience. Jon evidently was too. You could feel his leg moving a million miles a minute. His face had formed a permanent scowl. You hated that! Fucking people taking away your dimples. Jerks! Placing your hand on his leg, you looked up at him with a sympathetic smile.

Sighing and turning to John you said in your sweetest voice, "Oh? How amazing that you took time out of your busy schedule to go to Iraq and wrestle for the soldiers. I am SO sorry that I missed it. I was probably working in the hospital at the time, or out on a convoy. And you know how silly patients are with their injuries, always happening at the _most inconvenient_ times." Jon snickered at this.

"I do recall someone saying that there were wrestlers there, though. Something about 'word life' and rapping. I probably would have just been too overcome by your celebrity to even handle seeing you." Feeling even more gutsy, you continued gushing, "I mean, gosh, you're like the face of WWE, aren't you? So famous and all. I feel just so honored that you'd even chat with me. I do hope that Nicole doesn't mind if I just sit here and talk to you for hours about how wonderful you are."

Jon lightly stomped down on your toes at the last statement. You hazarded a look his way and you could tell that he was biting his cheek to keep from busting out laughing. His eyes were twinkling and his dimple was showing. Yes! Victory over the jerks!

Nicole huffed out a breath. "He is pretty much the best wrestler on the card, you know. Like, he's the whole reason it's so awesome and all."

You tried your hardest not to roll your eyes. Your hardest. But, damn it all, you failed miserably. It was just a little eye roll, though, so you hoped that no one at the table saw it.

"I'm sure he is. I'm quite impressed. It really is nice to meet you John; it's been such a privilege. Really, I'll have to call my parents and let them know how awesome it was to talk to you today." Jon pressed down harder on your toes and you smacked his leg under the table. He yelped involuntarily.

John and Nicole looked from you to Jon and back again. "Yeah, well, honey, let's leave these two to finish their lunch." John said to Nicole.

She looked at you with spite in her eyes. Apparently, you weren't giving her boyfriend the respect he was due. You should have known better, I mean the shirt AND the hat said to respect!

After the two of them took their leave you both broke into giggles. "Was that for real? I mean, really, were they for _real_?" You asked through your laughter.

Jon chuckled and said, "Sadly, yes. Those two are a piece of work. They both think they are God's gift to human-kind _and_ a wrestling ring. I mean he's put in the work and all, but he's about the most ridiculous 'clean cut' wrestler out there. And 's far 's Divas go, she's kinda poison. Well I jus' try t' stay away from 'em."

You looked at him smiled. "I'm glad you don't attempt to be something you're not. I'm glad that you let yourself be who you are. You can tell that you're not the most, uh," you paused, looking for the right words, "sane? No that's not right, stable? No, you're both sane and stable. It's just that you don't pretend to come from somewhere you didn't. It's genuine and you can see that when you fight. It's like you're taking down all the people who have wronged you. It's cool. Gah, I'm rambling again." You were blushing in earnest now.

"Hmmm," Jon smiled at you tapping his chin again, "rambling? Seems I know a way t' fix that. Tried and true Jon Good method." With that, he leaned down and kissed you. You stopped rambling in record time.


	18. Chapter 18

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 18**

Jon held your hand as you walked back to the hotel. He needed to get his gear and head to the arena for the show that night. It felt so normal walking down the street hand in hand. Like, if you could transport yourself from your mind for a second, you were any random couple in the world. People passed you by as you walked, but no one paid any attention to a 'normal couple'. No one even gave you a second glance. He was right, no one even noticed the scars.

You admonished yourself a little, it was a bit early on to be thinking that you were a 'couple'. Sure, Jon was easy to get along with. He was easy to talk to and even easier to snuggle with. Not to mention the little kisses and touches. He was a friend, though. Weeeell, a friend with almost benefits, if you were honest. Maybe you were a couple, a couple of crazy fuckers. Who the hell knew. Heck, who the hell cared. You were here, he was here, and that was enough. Even if it was only two-week vacation from your life, it was enough. You sighed and smiled at that.

Jon looked down at you questioningly, "Everything ok there, cupcake-kitten?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, let's not have that one catch on. Stick to one name, Mr. Good. You get to choose one fucking nickname for me, one. But I put a firm veto on that one." You replied, sticking your tongue out at him.

He chuckled, "Jus' thought I'd try it on f'r size. 'M mean y' got only like three of y'r nine lives left. It fits y'." You shook your head and laughed.

"No? 'Kay, let's jus' stick t' cupcake. Y'r sweet 'n I think I'd like t' take a bite out of y'." He ducked his head down to whisper into your ear, "'N maybe lick y'r frostin' too." He waggled his eyebrows up and down lasciviously at you, giving you his best lecherous face.

"I've created a damn monster!" You growled, flinging your hands up in defeat.

"Y' know that counts as a veto. Y've only got half of one left." He pointed out with an arched brow as you reached the hotel lobby.

You laughed at this and he joined in. Looping your arm in his, you walked toward the elevators. Both of you were so caught up in your private joke that you did not see Joe and Colby approaching until they were right in front of you.

"Well well well, and how are things going with the most interesting couple in wrestling right now? I've heard nothing but 'did you see Jon and Alicia' this and 'they're so cute' that." Colby teased in his nasally tone.

Joe rolled his eyes and flexed an arm out to shove Colby. "Leave them alone, they are happy. Just let them be, little brother."

"Well thank you Joe, I appreciate your understanding that just because we are walking and laughing together does not mean we are a damn couple." Jon frowned a little at this statement, but you avoided his eyes. "However! I did get the _ultimate_ honor of meeting the _best_ couple in the WWE. At least that is what they told me when they sat down uninvited at our table. They prattled on about how awesome John Cena is and how I could learn a thing or two from him." You rolled your eyes and the other guys burst out laughing.

"Aw shit, they found you? Sorry man," Colby was looking at Jon, "we knew you didn't want to be bothered. Leave it to that fucker to intrude into a nice private lunch time. He certainly knows how to ruin them," he said to the both of you.

"Hey uce, you going to ride with us to the arena for the taping? Or are you two going to follow behind in your own car? We are against the Wyatts again tonight. I'm pretty sure Luke is going to be looking to take out Colby pretty quick, not to mention what Rowan said he wanted to do to you after last night's attack." Joe said to Jon.

He turned to look at you again and said kindly, "And, hey, look at you! You look good like this, Alicia. Not that you didn't before, but you look a lot more comfortable, that's for sure. Couldn't have been too cool in those long-sleeved shirts in this weather. I like your ink, too. Mine's all from my family and tradition, but I love the designs you have there. We'll have to swap ink stories."

Colby murmured his agreement about your tattoos while taking in your outfit. You blushed a little at the attention, but it wasn't bad attention. These guys were sweet and Jon's friends. It was nice to feel a little less like a walking freakish weirdo and more like just a normal girl.

"Yeah, lemme get my shit from th' room 'n we'll carpool over there." Jon said abruptly, cutting off any more conversation with Joe. He didn't look at you while he spoke. You could tell that he was a little off. He definitely wasn't as chipper as before when you were joking together about vetoing nicknames.

Joe looked from you to him and then back to you. "You down with that, baby girl?" He asked you softly.

Jon huffed out an annoyed breath and you answered, "Uh, sure? Remember, I'm just along for the ride here. Just point me in a direction and I'll head that way," you smiled up at the big Samoan.

"Y' guys want t' meet back here? Jus' gimme five minutes." Jon said impatiently. He turned away from the group and walked quickly toward the elevators. You glanced at Joe and Colby with an apologetic expression and shrugged. Turning to follow Jon, you double timed to catch up to the closing elevator doors.

You reached in time to force the doors to open and joined Jon. Once you were in the elevator you looked over at him a little irritated. "Well, I didn't know we were in such a hurry. I'm sorry if my short legs are keeping you from making your time schedule, Mr. Good," you said a bit too sarcastically.

He looked at you, a little hurt. "Y' weren't keepin' me from nothin'. Jus' didn't wanna sit there and waste time talkin' 'bout y'r body 'n shit with th' guys."

Your eyes flew wide open at that. "Excuse the fuck out of me, what?!" You hissed out.

He flinched at your words. His face went from hurt to a scowl, "Well, y' were jus' standin' there all pretty 'n shit, 'n everyone c'n see how pretty y' are in that shirt 'cus y'r not coverin' up anymore. 'N Joe was goin' on about fucking swapping ink stories. And Colby was full on eyein' y', even if y' didn't see it."

He was griping in full force now. He seemed to be filled with anxious energy, his body twitching and his fingers drumming on his collarbone. The elevator stopped at your floor and you both walked to the room in silence. You were more than confused at the turn of events. He reached the door and unlocked it, walking in first. You followed, trying to think of something to say, but apparently, he hadn't finished his rant.

"'Sides, y' said we weren't nothin', so I guess we're nothin' and that's that." He ended his rant with a lot less gusto than when he started.

Oh shit, that's what this was about. Stupid male pride. Such delicate flowers men are. You beamed at him, but he kept a scowl on his face. Understanding the situation better, you actually thought it was quite cute. Walking towards the agitated man you reached out to pat his cheek, grinning full force.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" You snorted.

"Now y'r jus' makin' fun," he said like a petulant child.

"You're fucking jealous! Oh, my fucking shit, you're jealous! About 'lil 'ole me?" You were giggling fully now. It felt so good to be happy about something. Although, you were the only one currently happy with the situation, but you could do something really fast to change that. Of that, you were certain.

"Jon, seriously, stop. You're being ridiculous. One, _you_ told me to wear the damn shirt, so get over it. Two, they're _YOUR_ fucking friends, you trust them. And three, I'm not doing this, nor have I done _this_ for a long time, with _any other person_. Just. You." You punctuated the last two words by poking him in the chest.

You reached up both hands to wrap around his neck and wove your fingers through his hair. You pulled him down hard. He was too surprised by the move to react. You used his lack of reaction to pounce. Slanting your head to the side you molded your lips to his. You kissed him with all that you had in you. All the emotion from the past couple days, all the pent up want and desire. He gasped in shock. You took advantage and moved your tongue into his mouth. He tasted like sweet tea and sex. You wanted more. He pulled you closer. Your hips ground into his while his tongue swirled around yours, deepening the kiss.

Needing a breath after a minute, you stepped back in his arms. Both of you were panting from the kiss, and you had a 'cat that ate the cream' expression on your face. He grinned back at you.

"Might have been a tiny bit jealous," he admitted contritely after catching his breath.

"Might have to make you jealous more," you replied, saucily.

He groaned and hugged you. "Fuck, sorry, jus' sometimes my mind tells me things 'n I listen, y' know? Like 'm not worthy. Like y' deserve better 'n shit." He hung his head a little with his last words.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Jon. We've know each other, like, barely three days. Stop thinking about this so much. Let's just be happy to be with each other. I mean, yeah, we seem to fit really well. And, sure, I've dumped, like, my whole shit-storm of crazy on you in these past couple days, but I'm pretty happy with what we have going on. I'm on loan, remember? And, luckily for you, you get to keep me for as long as you want during that time. I'm happy with this arrangement." You smiled at him, "I'm happy with you."

"Ah crap, 'kay." He ducked his head again, "Did I mess it up?" He asked, looking up through his fringe of blond bangs with his best innocent look.

You snorted again, "Yeah, you messed it all up. I always throw myself into the arms of men I hate. Couldn't you tell how much you messed up? Or do you need a refresher?" You winked at him.

He snickered at the thought. Then he groaned and smacked his forehead, "Ugh, why th' fuck did I say five minutes? Th' boys 'll be poundin' down th' door if we take too long." He smiled at you and said, "'M gonna take you up on th' refresher after th' show tonight, though. Y' can bet y'r damn ass on it."

He stepped over to his bags and leaned down to get his gear for the night. You stood there and enjoyed the view while he was packing up his black tactical gear in his bag. This man had the cutest butt. Too bad you couldn't sell tickets to the show you were currently enjoying.

You smacked his butt and said, "Don't go betting what you haven't got yet, Mr. Good." You grinned when he yelped out in mock pain and looked at you in fake offence. "But if I _was_ a betting woman, I might just say you have decent odds there." With that you winked and sat on the bed, content.


	19. Chapter 19

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 19**

The arena was already abuzz with activity by the time the four of you got there. Smackdown tapings were not as long as the RAW shows, Jon told you, but they had some decent matches in them, sometimes. You were happy as usual to traipse along with the guys, enjoying the sights and sounds. You hoped that Nicole and John didn't come to rain on your parade. Maybe you could see Saraya again and meet some of the other wrestlers that she was so keen to introduce you to.

The guys found their locker room and dropped their gear. Jon asked you if you wanted to stay inside this time while they changed really quickly, obviously remembering the horrible time you had yesterday outside the locker room. You waived off his concern.

"I've had a full night's sleep and I'm not about to fall asleep in a chair tonight. I'm amped up and ready to watch a real match. Will there be a referee this time? Or will you just go crazy and fight like last night?" You asked him.

He laughed at this and said, "Nah, tonight's a real match. We'll have a match mid-card against the same guys we fought yesterday. The Wyatt fuckers are a different breed. I mean we all have a character t' play, 'n shit, but they seem t' embrace the fuckin' weird."

You cocked an eyebrow at this, but remained silent. To you, all of these people were a little bit weird. It was hard to see where the character ended and the person began in some of them. "I'll just hang out outside in the hallway while you guys get ready. Are we going to eat again before the show?" You asked.

"Yeah, we'll grab somethin' in catering. I still hav' t' take y' up t' talk to H. If y' recall, someone tried t' kill me yesterday 'n we didn't get th' chance." He chuckled at you.

You punched him in the arm and growled. "Oh, shut up, at least it taught you not to sneak up on an unsuspecting person while they were getting a decent nap in!"

"There y' go! Tryin' t' kill me again, 'n shit. Jeez, cupcake, what'd I ever do to y' t' deserve such harsh treatment?" He rubbed where you had barely hit him and pulled the saddest pout he could muster.

You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to go change. You found a folding chair near the door, just like you had the day previous, but this time you weren't tired at all. The energy was buzzing in your body. It was amazing what a decent night's sleep could do for a body. Your leg hurt a little, but it wasn't that bad since you weren't stuck in one position driving or walking for hours. The man that had taken over most of your thoughts lately was changing and you were ready to have a fun night. You felt good. Better than you had in ages.

As you sat there, lost in your own thoughts, you did not notice the WWE boss making his way down the hallway to you. He paused in front of the Shield locker room and looked down where you were seated in the chair. You looked up, a little surprised at being taken off guard. Usually you were so hyper-aware of your surroundings that no one could sneak up on you, especially not a huge man like this. This new development of being lost in thought was weird, and you weren't quite sure that you liked it.

Blustering a little at being caught off guard, you looked up at the huge man and said, "Oh, hello, I'm not sure if you remember me. I'm Alicia, Jon's friend."

He looked at you and smiled, a little insincerely, "Of course I remember you. I make it a point to know and remember everything that happens in my company. In fact, I made my way to the Shield's locker room in hopes of finding you. I don't usually go around finding people, you know, they usually come to me. But, I have some opportunities that I would like to discuss with you, young lady."

You groaned inwardly. Young lady? This guy was going to make your anti-eye rolling skills work overtime. "Oh?" you responded, you hoped pleasantly enough, "And what opportunities would those be?"

He nodded toward the other end of the hallway and motioned with a hand for you to get up and follow him. "Come to my office. I have a couple of ideas that I would like to throw your way." He started walking away from you, obviously expecting you to follow. You were torn weather to follow him or not. Jon wasn't out yet, but you didn't want to get him in trouble with his boss by ignoring the man's request. It probably wouldn't take too long anyway. Getting up from the chair, you followed the huge balding man down the hallway, presumably to his office.

"The WWE and the US Armed Forces have always had a wonderful working relationship. We enjoy doing USO shows and supporting our troops. As you probably know, every December we make it a point to have an annual Tribute to the Troops. Have you ever seen one of those?" He paused for a second, looking at you but not really waiting for an answer. "We do this to ensure that our servicemen, and women, know that we support them. That is not the only thing we do, many of our superstars visit hospitals where wounded soldiers are. They visit base hospitals and bring morale to the troops."

Shit, this guy sounded like a fucking advertisement for WWE. You felt like you could probably read this in a press release somewhere. He hadn't even stopped talking long enough for you to interject an 'Oh cool' or something.

You had reached the room he was using as his office and he ushered you in, closing the door. He motioned for you to sit down in the chair opposite his while he walked around his desk and sat with his hands tented together at the fingertips. Posters of WWE events were tacked up behind him. There was a movie poster from a B movie touting 'The Miz' as a Marine. The room was sparsely decorated, but there were a few potted plants. You felt like you were in the fucking First Sergeant's office and were in trouble.

Squirming a little in your seat you said, "Uh, that is great and all, Mr. Levesque, but I'm not sure what I could possibly do for you."

"Call me Paul." He said, "Well, I heard your story from Jon and I would like to take this opportunity to extend my thanks for your service to this fine country." Oh jeez, the anti-eye roll skills better not fail you now.

He continued, "If you are OK with it, I would like to take time out of tonight's taping and give you a proper 'welcome home' as a soldier from war. I know that you have dealt with injuries and we would love to have you get the honors that you are due. Just a small announcement, nothing too showy. Someone would say something in the ring and then you stand up and wave. Then, after the cameras get a good shot of you, you would enjoy the rest of the show ringside."

Your eyes grew wide at the thought of being put on display. Fuck! And crowds? Your heart rate was increasing rapidly. You could feel your palms beginning to sweat. How the fuck did you even get into this situation? Oh, yeah, remember Alicia? You offered a stranger a fucking ride. Before you could say anything, though, he went on.

"We would need to get you into hair and makeup immediately, though. And I think you would probably feel more comfortable in some military gear. It looks better for the cameras, a soldier being home but still showing true American honors in their uniform. We could always feminize the look a little, though. Yes, that is just the ticket. Would you need to go get your uniform from your hotel?"

You shook your head in horror at the situation that was progressing before your very eyes. This was getting out of hand. You wanted nothing to do with this. You felt like you were watching a bad horror movie and you were the star. Your body and your mind were screaming 'run!'.

"No? Never mind, I'll just send someone over to grab your bags. You can just give me the key and I'll get an intern right over there to get your stuff. It won't take a minute."

He just kept talking. You didn't even think you could interrupt him if you tried. Your mouth was dry and your tongue felt like it had been wrapped in cotton. You didn't want this. This was the biggest nightmare you could have possibly imagined. Out there, on display for people to look at. Allowing them to see you broken and torn from the war. Yeah, sure it wasn't a big deal to some people, but you couldn't handle this. This had to fucking stop! You were going to have a fucking panic attack in this man's office if it didn't stop soon.

You tried again to open your mouth to say something, but a knock on the door interrupted the meeting. Paul looked up from his desk and told whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a pretty woman with long brown hair and dressed in a skin tight red dress poked her head in, "Paul, darling, I need to discuss…" Her words faded as she saw you sitting in the chair. The look of confusion on her face was evident and Paul quickly introduced you.

"Stephanie, meet Alicia Price. Alicia, meet my wife, Stephanie McMahon. She is the daughter of the owner of the WWE, Vince McMahon." Paul said.

Stephanie entered the room and closed the door behind her. "Oh, is this the girl you were telling me about yesterday? How wonderful to meet you. Paul and I have some great ideas as to how we can allow you to enjoy some WWE benefits while you are on your leave. We both want to extend a huge WWE welcome to you and think that you would be a great addition to our military honors program. It would be great if the public could see firsthand a soldier who has been helped by our outreach program."

Was she fucking serious? You hadn't even really heard or thought about the damn WWE until two days ago when you met Jon. Where the fuck was Jon? You didn't feel good anymore. He made you feel good, where was he? Your heart was in your throat, this was too damn much to handle. He said they wouldn't push anything on you. Even though it was just an office with two seemingly nice people, the walls were starting to cave in on you. You couldn't handle it. Your legs started to wiggle uncontrollably. Your hands were starting to shake.

"I have a couple interviewers who have slots free, they could sit down with you and chat about your time over there. In fact, why don't we go there now." She smiled at you and stood, as if expecting you to do the same.

You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. What the fuck were you supposed to do? These guys had opened up their company to you and were only asking for some small shit. But fuck, you didn't want anything to do with the recognition, or the interviews, or the WWE right now, for that matter.

Your stomach was clenching and you could feel the saliva build up in your mouth. NO! Not fucking here! You wouldn't lose it here. Just hold on, Alicia. Hold the fuck on! Holding your breath, you looked from Paul to Stephanie and then you lost the battle. Your stomach lurched. You bolted up from the chair and ignoring the confused looks on their faces, you ran for the door. Pulling it open you ran down the hall trying to find the nearest toilet to throw up in. Fuck panic attacks, fuck all this shit.


	20. Chapter 20

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *Extra Warning* There's a panic attack in here, proceed with care. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 20**

Thankfully you didn't have to run too far. After a couple of turns you came upon a small empty locker room. A deserted locker room was the perfect place to lose your lunch and your mind. You ran to the toilet and threw up for what felt like ages. Your stomach hadn't stopped clenching and tears flowed freely from your eyes. You dry heaved until there was nothing left.

Finally, spent, you walked out of the bathroom. You stumbled over to the corner of the room, hidden behind a bench, and sat down on the floor. With your knees pulled up you dropped your head and cried. You rocked back and forth, sobbing. Why was your mind so fucked up? Why couldn't you just enjoy things? Why couldn't you just be normal? It's not like they were asking you to bare your soul, they just wanted a little chat for their show. It was just the entertainment industry, they wanted a show, not the real thing. But, you couldn't even bring yourself to pretend to give a show. Shit, you couldn't even say you would sit in the fucking crowd.

Your feelings were raw. Your throat burned from throwing up and your hands wouldn't stop shaking. You would never get used to how quickly your body could go from 'I'm fine' to 'Fucking panic! Run!'. Your head hurt and the adrenaline leaving your body made you oh so tired. You hoped that someday you wouldn't have to deal with this shit. Hopefully, one day you would be able to go a full day without your head getting in the way. Maybe you should have stayed in the hospital for a little while longer. They had offered you inpatient services, but, no, you knew better. You knew what was right for you. Remember, Alicia? You _knew_ you were strong enough to go back out into the world. Remember?

Fucking idiot. You knew nothing about what was going on in your head. Honestly, you just knew nothing about anything right now. You had no idea how long you had been sitting there. When did you even go into Paul's office? And how long had you been in here? At least this time your mind didn't take you somewhere else and you had stayed in the present during your panic attack. You guessed that was a small victory, you thought, as you groaned inwardly.

Your breathing was calming down and you were almost to a point where you could get up and walk again. Just a few more minutes. You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, sighing. Just a few more minutes.

You woke suddenly to a woman's voice crying out, "Oh goody! I've found you!"

Attempting to stand from your cramped position, your leg roared out in pain. You stumbled a little, but righted yourself as you looked confusedly to where the voice was coming from. A tiny woman with brown hair, minuscule jean shorts and knee high black boots was standing in the doorway of the locker room. She sported a black cropped shirt that showed off her cut abs. Around her waist was an ostentatious belt that read 'Divas' and had a huge pink butterfly. As if she was dealing with a wild animal, she carefully stepped in the room and walked gingerly over to your side.

She took out her phone and quickly sent off a text, then turned to you. "Honey, hey. I'm April. We've been looking for you for quite a while. Trips and Stephanie told everyone to be on the lookout because you got sick, but no one knew where you went. I'm so sorry you were sick, are you feeling any better?"

You shook the sleep confusion from your head and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Um, yeah, I got a little sick, yeah. It must have been something I ate." Groaning you dropped your head in your hand before snapping it right back up. "Shit! How long have I been gone? I mean, how long have you been looking for me?"

She looked at you with a twinkle in her eyes, "I hate getting sick." She commiserated with you, "And, oh, probably about a couple hours or so. Maybe a little more? Tonight's taping is almost over."

You gasped, "What?! NO! Oh no! Oh no, oh no, fuck, crap."

She patted you on the shoulder, "Hey, it's ok. Everyone gets sick sometimes. I just hope it isn't some stomach bug going around." She shuddered with the last words.

"Can you help me find the Shield?" You asked, not feeling like getting into why exactly you had gotten sick and passed out for hours. You just wanted to get back to Jon, he had to be worried as fuck!

"Um, yeah, of course. They were looking for you too," she giggled. "Poor guys seemed a little off when they were in their match earlier. I guess it just has been one of those nights. Maybe they are sick too; I mean you guys are hanging out together a lot. Gosh, I hope you're not contagious." She turned to the door and opened it, beckoning you to follow.

You both exited the locker room and headed down a couple of hallways toward the Shield's locker room. Grateful for the help, you followed in silence. Your head fucking hurt. Panic attacks often brought on headaches from hell, and this one was a fucking doozy.

April looked over at you and said, "I texted Trips that I found you. I'll let him know that I dropped you off at their locker room. Are you going to be ok from here? Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, thank you," you replied. "I'll be fine with them. Thank you for your help. I don't think I would have found my way back otherwise."

She smiled and said, "No problem." Then she turned and skipped away from you down the hallway. Fucking…skipped.

You laughed to yourself, you felt like Alicia in fucking Wonderland. Turning to face the Shield's door, you knocked softly.

Almost immediately the door was jerked open and you were face to face with a frantic looking Jon still dressed in his tactical gear from his match. His face went quickly from panic to relief and he lunged toward you. Wrapping you in a huge hug, he gripped you as if he were to let you go, you would fly away. You wrapped your arms around him and held on too.

"MGh smrryh," you attempted to say, but your face was smashed into his chest so it didn't come out so clear. Jon was not letting go. He wasn't humming. He wasn't doing anything. He was just holding onto you for dear life.

You couldn't see over his shoulders but you heard some other people shuffling behind him. You assumed Joe and Colby were somewhere back there. You raised a hand behind Jon's back, waving to whomever was there. "MGHi gmys."

You heard footsteps and soon a hand came over and clasped Jon on the shoulder. "Hey, uce, she can't breathe, man. She's here. You need to loosen your grip a little," Joe said softly to him.

Finally, realizing he had you in a death grip, Jon loosened his arms so you could turn your face. He didn't let go of the hold, but at least you could breathe. Small victories.

"Um, hey guys," you said in a small voice. "Sorry I was gone for so long. I got sick and passed out for a while. I'm so sorry I missed your match. I was super looking forward to it, too." Your voice sounded sad and pathetic. So much for being a great ass-kicking soldier.

Jon started to rock you back and forth, rubbing his hand up and down your spine. He let out a couple deep breaths, "Y've got t' stop tryin' t' give me a heart attack, cupcake. Fuck, where'd y' even go? No one knew what happened. We jus' came out 'n y' were gone." He moved back from holding you to take your face in his hands. His concerned eyes held your gaze. "I looked all over for y' before our match. Finally, the wicked witch of the WWE came looking for you in our locker room to say y' ran off, but we still had no fucking clue. Even after we found out about th' meeting with Trips, y' couldn' be found. What happened t' y'? Why'd y' run? Where'd y' go, where'd y' fuckin' go for three hours?" He looked so scared.

Joe and Colby flanked his sides while they too looked down at you with concern. Colby put his hand on your shoulder and Joe reached over to pat your head gently. You felt so much better being near these guys, even if they all knew you were definitely bonkers now. Fucking two nights in a row you had caused a scene.

"I couldn't handle it. I'm so fucking sorry, but he was talking about some military honors shit. Fucking putting me on display, you know?" Jon tensed up at this, but you continued, "He wanted to dress me up in some uniform and put me ringside. I started to freak out in his office but I didn't want to get you guys in any trouble. I stayed and listened, but my mind started to freak out again. I couldn't stop the feelings. Then I met Stephanie, and she just steamrolled on with me getting interviewed, and hair and makeup and shit. They were going to fucking put me on camera, Jon. Me! On. Fucking. Camera!"

You were shaking again. You didn't want to have another panic attack, but your hands were beginning to shake so hard that you had to hold them in front of you to keep any semblance of calm.

"To top it all off, I missed your fucking match!" You started crying again. Everything was miserable now. You had ruined a wonderful evening. It sucked that just one small thing like a panic attack could ruin a whole fucking day. Your mind played so many fucking jokes on you and the urge to panic and run was the worst one as of late.

"You didn't ruin anything, baby girl. We were just worried that you had gotten lost, or left without saying goodbye." Joe said in a quiet voice. You knew that he was talking for Jon right then.

"It takes a hell of a lot for us to have a bad night, Alicia. But, I will say that by you missing me curb-stomp the hell out of Luke Harper, this one comes close." Colby joked, trying to raise everyone's spirits from the heavy conversation. Joe snickered a little at his joke, but you just groaned.

Jon had stayed mostly quiet, just keeping his hands on your face. He watched you while you took in what the other two men were saying. There was sympathy in his eyes, and a spark of anger underneath. You felt so bad for having caused such a commotion. Trying to dry your tears, he rubbed his thumbs under your eyes along your wet cheeks.

The tears had stopped falling in earnest, and you were just hiccupping tiny sobs. You looked up at him and gave him a small smile, "I wanted to see you in action too, Mr. Good. I'm just sorry that my mind is such a fucking mess that I can't even handle polite conversation with your boss."

He pulled you back into a quick hug and said, "Hey, lemme go talk to H real quick. Um, I need t' clear this whole shit up." He was full of energy again, it pulsed off him. He stepped back from you and you noticed his fists balling up again. He was angry. He was angry for you and the situation you had been put into. Ugh, you didn't need to cause this shit. You didn't need him to fight any battles that weren't even really battles that needed to be fought.

Reading the situation the same as you, Joe stepped in. "Hey, uce, maybe you should let me go talk to him. You probably need to calm down a little. We all do after today's scare. Give me a few minutes, I'll go clear this whole thing up." He turned to look at you, "Am I right in assuming that you want nothing to do with any publicity or honors, baby girl?"

"NO!" You said to Joe, louder than intended, "I mean, no, that's right. I just want to be me. And keep to the background. If that's not ok, then no worries. I still have my rental and I'll be on the way." You paused at Jon's quick inhale of breath. Turning to face him you said, "Your life is crazy and fun, but I'm just crazy right now, Jon. We can't have me ruining a show just because I panic and run off to hide. I won't let that change what you have going here."

Turning back to Joe you said, "Please tell Mr. Levesque and Stephanie that I am very honored by their offer, but I politely decline. If they need to have me say it, I can, just not right now. Right now, I'm kind of done. Done with people, done with crazy and done with everything. Thank you, you big Samoan sweetie." You raised up on tip toe to kiss him on his cheek. He patted your head again and turned to go talk to Triple H.

Colby and Jon stood next to you for a minute, not saying anything about the situation. Jon seemed to accept that it would probably be a better outcome if he wasn't the one to go talk to Triple H. You were drained from the whole experience and more than ready to get the fuck out of there.


	21. Chapter 21

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *Extra Warning*: This one talks about war and violence over in Iraq. It deals with injuries, mentions of suicide, bourbon and Alan Alda again. Please please proceed with care. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 21**

"So, uh, you guys going to have dinner out tonight? Or are you getting right on the road? We planned on celebrating the win together, but with everything that has happened…" Colby asked, fading off at the end of his sentence. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the whole thing. Poor guy, he'd only known you for two days and he'd already seen you freak out twice.

You looked over at Jon, expecting him to have the answer for the night's activities, but he remained silent. Sighing, you walked over to the chair that you had vacated earlier. Jesus this day had certainly changed from being fun and flirty to being shot and shitty.

Jon walked over and put his hand on your shoulder. He crouched down in front of you like he had yesterday, "How 'bout it, cupcake, y' feel like goin' out with these two fools?" He asked you softly.

Looking up into his eyes, you gave a small smile. "Sure, sounds like fun. I lost my lunch after the meeting. I've got to stop wasting food." You chuckled mirthlessly.

He lifted one side of his mouth in a partial smile. You would take one dimple, at least that was better than a stressed-out scowl. "Fuck, y'r gonna jus' waste away at this rate. We gotta get y' to keep somethin' down." He stood and offered you his hand, "Ok, but y'r gonna come in the fucking locker room this time while we get changed. I don' wanna go in and change and fuckin' come out t' y' missin' again."

You shot him a pointed glare, "Fine, but don't do anything to ruin my tender sensibilities. I'm a proper lady, after all."

He guffawed at this and steered you into the room. Maybe you didn't ruin the whole fucking day after all.

After grabbing all the bags from the hotel, the boys chose a bar not too far from the arena to celebrate. It was not a busy club scene, more like a dive bar where most of the people knew each other. The regulars probably had their own stools. The four of you headed to a booth near the back while Joe signaled the hostess that you were going to need menus with your drinks. You shouldn't drink with your medication, but fuck it. After the past two and a half days, you could certainly use one.

A girl named Sheena came over to take the orders for the table. Joe, Colby and Jon all ordered beers but you needed something a little stronger.

"Bourbon, double please, on the rocks." You said when she got to you. The guys all looked at you with surprise. "What," you asked, "I'm over 21. I think I've earned a fucking drink after today."

Colby laughed at that and Joe said, "Not that you don't deserve it, just didn't seem the type to throw back straight bourbon, baby girl."

It was your turn to laugh, "You barely know me, except for the crazy woman you've seen the past two days. I enjoy a good drink occasionally, well, rarely now. I used to rely a little heavier on it than I should have, so I don't do it very often anymore."

"You're right," Colby interjected, "we barely know you at all, except for what Jon has told us." He was about to go on, but the beers and bourbon were delivered to the table. Everyone paused to order their meals and take a drink.

You arched a brow in Jon's direction at the admission that he had been talking about you. He put his beer down and raised his hands in defense. "I've said nothin' but how amazin' y' are, cupcake, I swear."

Rolling your eyes, you smacked him on the arm. "Yeah, amazing. Whatever. Well, I'm pretty much an open book lately, as Jon has obviously told you. You can ask me whatever. About my past, about what happened, even. It's getting easier to talk about, actually. I don't seem to mind talking now, honestly. It's just, sometimes it gets a bit heavy for some people. I've learned that keeping things to myself is easier."

"Oh, and she has a strict veto rule when she plays twenty questions," Jon interrupted, "if y' ask a question she don't wanna answer, she jus' says 'veto' an' y' have t' move on." He smiled at this, "I've used one 'n a half vetoes already, so I'm not wastin' my questions with you fuckers here."

You snickered and looked back to Joe and Colby who were watching the exchange with interest.

"So, you'll answer any question." Colby said slowly.

"Yup." You said, taking a sip of your drink, "I'll just veto it if I don't want to answer."

"Where were you deployed to over there?" Colby immediately asked.

"Um, which time? I had two deployments." You asked him.

"I don't know, both?" he replied.

You laughed, "Ok, both. The first one was to Iraq for eighteen months, and the second one was to" You paused for dramatic effect, "…Iraq for almost eighteen months. I'll have to veto specifics because we're still not allowed to talk about that."

Joe smirked at your answer. "Ok, here's one, how many times did you guys get stuff shot at you?" Colby asked then.

"Stuff? That's a pretty broad term there, Colby. Mortars that get sent into camps? Bullets that get shot at people, vehicles, and helicopters? IEDs that get blown up? Each one is a totally different number so you'll have to break it down for me." You replied, smiling. The bourbon had warmed your belly and effects from the lack of food were loosening your tongue. You felt safe here with these men, safe enough to talk about pretty much anything.

Joe broke in then, "Did you actually have each one of those things happen?"

"Oh yeah," you replied nonchalantly, with a wave of your hand, "but after the first couple of times it happens it gets a bit old shoe. No one really pays attention to a mortar attack warning alarm after the first dozen. If the convoy gets attacked, however, that's full on shitty. Those are way worse than just being randomly shot at in helicopters. Oy, and IEDs are fucking bullshit. I've lost way too many friends that way."

Jon had his hand on your shoulder and dropped it down to rub your lower back. His touch kept you comfortable and grounded while you were talking. It was like a lifeline to normal.

Joe reached over to pat your arm, "I'm sorry, baby girl, that had to be rough."

"Yeah, but those deaths are kind of expected, you know? It's the ones who decide that they want to just kill themselves, those were the worst." You didn't look up from your drink then. Suicide was the fucking worst. People just went crazy and couldn't deal anymore. You didn't blame them, in some ways you understood the inability to continue on. It was just a hard topic to handle.

Colby cleared his throat. Joe took a long pull from his beer. Jon pulled you closer to him and said, "Fuck cupcake, we don' have t' talk about this shit if y' don' wanna. We can talk about th' road or wrestlin' or anything."

You waived off his concern and took another drink, "Nah, it's not like it's the worst thing that even happened over there. Believe me, I'm still game to this twenty questions shit."

"Wow," Colby said, looking at you with a little more respect.

"Erm, yeah, so who's next?" You asked quickly, not wanting to wallow on that one topic too long. That was where things got uncomfortable and you would probably have to bring out the vetoes.

"I've got one," Joe said in his low rumbling voice, "what made you join the ARMY?"

Jon burst out laughing, "Fuckin' Alan Alda, that's what!"

You punched him in the arm and ducked your head in embarrassment. "Shut the fuck up, Jon." You looked over at Joe who had a confused look on his face.

"I went to college for culinary arts right after I got out of high school. I loved it, the rush of the kitchen and the bizarre stuff that always happened. Eventually I started to work in a bakery. I did weddings and decorated cakes for a couple of years. After a while that got really dull." You stirred your straw in your drink and stared at it as the water mixed into the amber liquid in small tendrils.

"I was burnt out on doing weddings; in fact, I fucking hate them now. I needed a little excitement in my life. I had always wanted to save people. I wanted to help people. 9-11 happened when I was in college and I felt like I could do something to help. I signed up as a medic with the option to be a nurse later on. Unfortunately, I never got to do the nurse part. Apparently, when you sign up for the military during a war, they train you quick and send you straight into the fucking war." You smiled ruefully.

"Y' can cook? Like good food 'n stuff?" Jon asked you, grinning.

"Seriously, dude, that was what you got from that whole conversation? That she can cook?" Joe shook his head while rolling his eyes.

Colby burst out in laughter. "Wow, so you're like a super-soldier-chef? Awesome!"

"What?" Jon asked, looking properly reprimanded for his questions. "I can't fuckin' cook t' save my life. 'S nice t' know someone who can do more than make cereal."

You smiled at their banter. You missed having battle buddies to chat with. Even if these guys were in a totally different world than you, camaraderie and bullshitting seemed to translate through worlds.

Sheena walked over to the table with a tray laden with food. She dropped the meals in front of each of you bidding you a good meal. The guys started eating with gusto and you joined in.

After a few minutes of eating Joe paused and looked at you, "You said that your friends dying wasn't the worst thing that happened to you, was your injury the worst?"

"Ah, yes and no, I guess." You answered, chewing on your lip. You took another sip of bourbon to give you the strength for this answer. Although a veto was always available, you felt so comfortable with these guys. You figured that you could just talk about the topic until you didn't want to anymore. It's not like they were really pushing you hard. And you knew that Jon would put a stop to anything if you got too uncomfortable.

Jon seemed to understand that this was going to be a tough one for you to answer. He stopped eating and rested his hand on your thigh. "Cupcake, we don' have t' play this stupid game if y' need t' quit. It's ok. We're big boys 'n y'r entitled t' any secrets y' wanna keep from us."

"Yeah, you can use a veto here no problem, baby girl. We've been up in your business so much already anyway." Joe said in agreement. Colby murmured his consensus as well.

"Nah, I'm cool guys. Maybe if I talk about it I won't freak out about it so much." You shrugged your shoulders. Taking another drink, you continued.

"I didn't even know I was hurt, really. I just went over to check on two of the guys from the Iraqi army that we were training. They were pulling guard during a blackout." You looked up to see the guys' three faces staring at you with rapt attention.

"There was a full blackout for the entire area. No lights, no sounds. We knew there was enemy in the area, but it had been a couple days since we had been attacked. There wasn't anything big going on. Like I told Jon the other day, we did a lot of the jobs, like, we didn't just do the one we signed up to do. I was on guard duty quite a bit and even helped with the training of their army."

"Uh," you stopped and sipped your drink again, needing the liquid courage, "we were sitting there in a bunker outside of the camp. It gets so dark there, you know? There's no city lights. Like you can't even see in front of your face kind of dark. The moon wasn't out that night, but the stars were. It looked like a million pin holes in the sky. So gorgeous, but in the shittiest of places." You paused again, taking a deep breath.

Jon rubbed your shoulder and Joe and Colby stayed quiet as you composed what you were going to say.

"Anyway, like I said, I had walked over to where the Iraqi army guys were on guard. We knew each other fairly well through an interpreter. I had my friend and battle Johnson with me. He was the coolest guy. Always smiling. He was always quick with a joke and a smoke for whoever needed cheering up." Jon's hand rubbed up and down your back, soothing you while you spoke.

"Well, not really thinking, we sat down with the guys and started chatting away. It was pretty one-sided since they didn't speak English, but it worked. We made it work. At some point in the conversation, we brought out our cigarettes and lit up. We didn't even think about the light from the lighter pointing anyone in our direction. We didn't think." You had tears in your eyes now, and one had escaped to fall down your cheek. You picked up your drink and drained the rest of it. "Well, obviously that was a bad decision. They saw us. We got hit. I survived, but I took some shrapnel in my side. Internal bleeding too, from the mortar… um ok, yeah. Veto now." You started crying and turned your head into Jon's shoulder, accepting the comfort that you knew he would give.


	22. Chapter 22

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. *Hey everyone, thanks for your patience for an update. Just moved across country and got the internet up again, started school, kids starting school, general stress and a PTSD breakdown getting in the way. Should be better at getting updates out now. Warning: for this chapter: Contains some smut in exchange for the waiting :) - enjoy* PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 22**

The rest of the dinner was quiet, and the boys went their separate way in their own car, sensing that you both needed to be alone together after 'another' breakdown. You and Jon got in the rental to drive to the town the house show was in, but neither one of you were very talkative. The radio kept you both company as the miles passed mostly in silence. The sun had set, and the darkness cloaked the miles and miles of flat scenery. You were slightly embarrassed about the breakdown, but it felt good to finally break the silence about what had happened. Now if you could only talk about the rest of the problem. The real reason why you kept going crazy.

The town was not too far away from the previous show, and Jon had already made reservations for the hotel. You walked hand in hand to the room while he carried the bags. It was beginning to be normal to just be with him and act like you were together. It was so nice to experience this, even if it was just for a little while longer.

After both of you had changed for the night, him in his underwear and you in your pajamas , you crawled into bed and turned on the TV. There was nothing on except infomercials, but after a long stay in the hospital you were used to that sort of programming. Ronco did actually make every product under the sun, and the crazy lady with the dump meals might make nasty ass food, but it was at least entertaining. Jon turned off the lights, climbed in the bed and laid back instead of sitting up with you in the bed. You laid down next to him and immediately reached over to touch him. You stretched your arm over his bare chest, feeling his muscles while his chest rose and fell with each breath. His heartbeat was steady under your hand. His smell of clean and man enveloped you, making you feel safe and relaxed. You needed to feel a warm body, to feel life. It was better than remembering the deaths. Better than remembering waking up.

"Y' feeling ok now, cupcake?" Jon asked as he rolled you into his body to spoon.

"Yeah, ironically I feel better being able to talk to you guys about all this shit. Like, I've kept it inside for so long and you don't judge. It's just I have so many things that I want to talk about, so many things that I've had happen. I just don't want you to feel like you have to be some sort of therapist to me. Well, a therapist that I'm currently spooning with, I guess." You giggled at the last part.

Jon huffed a laugh in your ear, "Did y' not hear me th' fifty million times I said it? Captive fuckin' audience, cupcake, f'r you, f'r now, f'r whenever."

"You've got to be tired after today, though, I know you work out in the morning and then work tomorrow night. I'm ok if you just want to go to sleep on me. I'll watch some TV and relax for a while, I'm pretty sure sleep won't come that easily to me tonight." You snuggled back while you said this, ready to enjoy the rest of the Ronco knife presentation.

"Hmm, I'd like t' sleep on you, that's for sure." He chuckled in your ear. You reached back and pinched his thigh with a laugh. "Just kiddin' cupcake, was jus' me wishin' out loud. I have a singles match tomorrow. I'm hopin' you'll be ok t' watch it."

"Yeah, I definitely don't want anything to get in the way of watching your match tomorrow. I am frustrated that I've been a little out of it and missed out on all the action." You replied. "Who are you going to wrestle against this time?"

"Eh, Glen – 'mean Kane. He's the one with the red mask 'n long hair. Brother t' the Taker. Did y' see him? Pro'lly not yet, you'd remember him. 'E's a big guy. Not so bad. It should be a good match." He explained while he slowly rubbed his fingers up and down your arm, giving you goosebumps. Every once in a while, he would let his hand travel over to your breast to tease your nipple. The action was making you squirm and the moist heat pooling in between your thighs was growing.

"Well, I can't wait. I like seeing you in your element, doing what you do best." You said, trying to pay attention to the conversation instead of the feeling in the pit of your stomach coming from his touch. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You scooted a little back, further into his arms.

"Cupcake, y'r about to see what I actually do best if y' keep squirmin' back like that." He huffed out on a laugh.

"Erm, well, I'm not totally against the idea. I mean it's been a while for me, but you know…" You trailed off as you squirmed a little more.

"What? Yeah? Y' don't need to feel pressured or nothin', if y'r not sure." He said as he sat up from spooning you and looked down where you lay, reading your face in the glow from the TV. You reached out to touch his jaw and smiled. You knew this was right. Everything that had happened from meeting him to now had lead up to this moment. It was time to enjoy this man and everything he was offering you.

"I want this, I want you."

With that admission, Jon leaned down and captured your mouth, slanting his lips over yours. You opened to him and his tongue snaked in to twirl around yours. Your hands went to his broad shoulders, gripping them as he deepened the kiss. You moaned and arched under him, bringing your apex into contact with his hardening length. His hands framed your face as he devoured your mouth. You reached down to trace his outline in his underwear, feeling his member grow even more with your touch. He groaned and broke the kiss to lick down your neck to the collar of your shirt, nibbling as he went. As he ran his hand down the side of your ribs to the bottom of your shirt your whole body tensed. He sensed the change and stopped, sitting back.

"Y' sure y're ok with this?"

You cringed inwardly, cursing the horrible scars on your stomach. "Yeah," you paused, "but do you mind if we just keep the shirt on? I'm sorry, it's just… well, I'm just not there yet."

Jon ran a finger down your cheek to your lips. "Cupcake, I'll take y' however y' feel like comin' t' me. Even if we stop here, I'll jus' hold y' till y' fall asleep. I'm not into pressuring people t' get what I want, it's more fun if everyone is on board."

You smiled up at his reassurance. Feeling a bit bolder, you snaked your fingers into the waistband of your sleep pants and underwear and wiggled a little to slide them down your legs. "Well, I may not be ready for the total unveiling of my body just yet, but I sure could use some attention on some of the good bits." You giggled.

Jon groaned again and dropped his head down to the jut of your hipbone. He ran his fingertips over your mound, feeling the wetness there. "Omygod cupcake, y're gonna fuckin' be the death of me."

"Don't die Jon, I'm finally ready for some fun. Death is the opposite of what I want right now unless it's le petit mort of course." You laughed at him.

He settled in between your legs and chuckled into the juncture of your thighs, licking up one side and biting gently at your hipbone. Your tenseness melted away. He wrapped a strong hand around your other leg, pinning you down as he started to spread your lips with his other hand. His fingers snaked into your heat, finding you wet from arousal. You whimpered as he started with one finger sliding slowly in and out while his mouth assaulted around your hips and the inside of your thighs. He sucked and nipped and bit around your mound, leaving marks that would prove his claim tomorrow. You arched up into his mouth, but he was purposely avoiding the area you wanted him to kiss the most. You began to writhe on the bed as he continued his assault, but his hand kept you firmly planted to the bed. Your hands reached down for him, trying to guide him to your clit, trying to get him to touch you more.

"Jon…" You whined, "please… please, fuck, I need you to…"

With that admission, he suddenly slammed a second finger into you, scissoring them to hit your g spot while his mouth captured your most sensitive spot. He licked up and down causing your arousal to reach its peak. Your orgasm was mounting, you could feel the tension in the pit of your stomach. He began to lick side to side, in circles and nibble at your clit while adding a third finger into your wetness. Your moaning reached a fevered pitch as he began to fuck harder with his fingers while his mouth attacked your clit.

"Cum f'r me cupcake," he rumbled against your juncture, "show me what I do t' ya."

As if his command was all you were waiting for you pulled his hair, forcing him closer. Your orgasm washed over you, blinding you. Sparks flew behind your eyes as you writhed under his mouth, filling you with pleasure as you ground onto his face. Your back arched and you yelled out his name. He moaned into your thighs as you came down from your orgasmic high, releasing his hold of you.

"Fuck me cupcake, y're goddamned beautiful when y' cum." Jon said as he wiped your arousal from his mouth and came back up your body to kiss you.

You grinned back at him, feeling elated and sated at the same time. You reached out a hand to grab his underwear waist band, but he brushed your hand away with a smile.

"T'night was f'r you n' only you. Y're fuckin' beautiful 'n I think y' needed a reminder of that." Jon said as he climbed back up the bed to wrap his arms around you.

"But, it's ok Jon. I'm ok with this," you reassured him.

"I know, y' think y're ready for everything, but y're still not completely sure about y'rself. Jus' let me give this t' y' tonight." He said as he pulled you tight into his embrace. You tried to protest because you could feel his arousal hard against your back. He shushed your protests while his arms brought comfort and peace. He kissed your neck and mumbled something unintelligible as his breathing started to even out. You thought that sleep would be far from you tonight, but as you listened to his breathing, the relaxing sound lulled you into the dreamless sleep of those who were more innocent than you.


	23. Chapter 23

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 23**

The next morning you felt more relaxed than you had been in months. You reached over to Jon's side of the bed, but it was cold. Looking at the bedside clock you noticed it was already 11am, he must have gotten up and went to the gym without waking you. The sun was pouring through the slit in the curtains and you let it wash over you while you thought of the events of the night before. You were ready to have sex again, to accept this new version of you. You were ready, weren't you? Maybe he did have a point if you didn't feel comfortable showing your whole body to your lover. Maybe you weren't ready for everything. But what you were ready for was amazing. Your body felt wonderful and your mind was at ease. This man was wonderful for your recovery. You stretched in the sunlight and smiled to yourself, realizing that this was the first time that someone had been able to be in bed with you and leave you without you even waking up. You must be losing your touch, or maybe you were finally calming down from everything you had experienced.

You heard a snick in the hotel door and sat up in bed to see Jon walk in. He was dressed in his workout gear and sweaty from what was apparently a hard gym session. He looked over to the bed and grinned at you, dimples on full show. God, you fucking loved those dimples, best fucking face to wake up to.

"Hey there cupcake, y' were sleepin' so soundly that I didn' want t' wake y'. Jus' figured I'd get a workout in real quick before we made it over t' the arena." He walked over to where you sat on the bed and leaned down to place a small kiss on your forehead. "Jus' gonna hop in the shower 'n get changed then we c'n grab some lunch if y' want. Joe 'n Colby said they'd like to join if y're feelin' up t' it."

"Sure, sounds like fun. I'd like to make it up to them for breaking down into a puddle of tears yesterday," you said.

"Y' were fine, they understood," he said as he walked over to his bags to grab some clean clothes. You didn't even try to hide the fact that you were checking out his body this time. As if he could feel your gaze, he turned and gave you a saucy wink. You blushed a little and gave a small shrug.

"What? I like what I see." You said as you gave him a big smile.

He guffawed and sauntered to the bathroom, leaving the door open a little while he took his shower. You got up from the bed and rifled through your bags to find an outfit for the day. Feeling even better about yourself, you grabbed an almost backless tank top and a skirt that hadn't seen the light of day for over half a dozen months.

When Jon finished up his shower you went into the bathroom to shower and change really quickly. You took in your appearance in the mirror, confident in showing yourself off a little more. Feeling like a new woman, you stepped out of the bathroom. Jon was sitting on the bed, ready to go in his tank top, jeans and black boots. His leather jacket lay next to him on the bed. He was fiddling on his phone when he glanced up as you walked out. His phone dropped from his fingers as he quickly stood up to take in your outfit.

"Well fuck me sideways, cupcake, I'ma have t' feast on y' regularly if it gets y' t' dress like this. Y're a fucking wet dream in that skirt." He exclaimed in one breath.

You giggled and performed a full spin so that he could take in your outfit. You had pulled your hair into a high ponytail so that your back was in full view with the low cut of the tank top. He whistled his appreciation and walked over to you. He pulled you in for a kiss and you couldn't help but melt into his embrace. Your mouth opened to him and his tongue dragged against yours. He moaned into your mouth and gripped the sides of your shirt in his hands, pulling you as close as possible.

Too soon he broke the kiss and stepped back to gain his breath. You smiled at him, "Guess you approve of the outfit?" you snickered.

"Fuck yeah," he said as he adjusted himself in his pants. "In every way possible. Gonna be hard as hell t' sit with y' at lunch knowin' jus' how sexy y' are underneath all that."

You laughed and patted him on the arm, "Hard as hell, eh?"

He smacked you on the ass and turned to grab his jacket and the phone from the floor. You returned the gesture while he was bent over, causing him to yelp in surprise.

"We'd better meet up wit' the guys before this gets outta hand. Behave, Ms. Alicia, or I'll have t' punish y' later on." He reprimanded you with an evil smile, poking his tongue out the side of his mouth. Taking your arm, he led you to the door and ushered you out to have lunch with Joe and Colby.

After an enjoyable lunch with the guys the four of you made your way to the arena for the night's show. Joe and Colby had both mentioned how good you looked. They said you looked more relaxed and sure of yourself. Smiling inwardly, you knew it was partially because of last night, but they didn't need to know that.

You decided that it would be best if you just hung out in the locker room with them before the show so that you could prevent anything odd happening this time around. Better safe than sorry. Joe and Colby didn't seem to mind that you were sticking close to Jon. In fact, they seemed to like the fact that you were there with him, keeping him company. They had accepted you as part of their group now which made you feel so much more comfortable in their world.

"Where are you going to be during the matches tonight, Alicia?" Joe asked you as you were all sitting in the locker room.

"Well, I would like to watch from the spot I did the other day. Where you guys went out to the ring?" You replied.

"The gorilla." Colby interjected.

"Yes, the gorilla I guess. I felt like I was close enough to the action but still far enough away from the crowds. Still not sure if I'm ready for all of that." You said.

"Well then cupcake, th' gorilla it is. The boys have a tag team match up before my match. We'll pro'lly just hang out there t' watch it before I go out f'r my match. Y' can meet Glen then." Jon said as he came over to you. "'N I can make sure y' don't get into no trouble. Stick t' my side this time, eh?"

He had changed into his ring gear. Your heart skipped a beat taking in the black cargo pants, tight black shirt and combat boots. He had slicked back his hair and looked like he was ready to fight. He must have been feeling the energy of the upcoming fight or nerves about you freaking out because he kept bouncing up and down on his feet while twitching his fingers on his collar bone. You smiled at him assuredly.

"This time around I'm fine. I promise." You said to him, then you leaned in to whisper, "You relaxed me last night, remember? I'm good, I'll be just fine."

His face lit up with a huge smile causing your favorite dimples to show again. Joe and Colby rolled their eyes, knowing that you must have said something that wasn't appropriate for mixed company.

"Come on uce, stop drooling over her, we've got to get going to position. Bring your girl. We'll show her what real wrestlers look like before you go out there and trip all over yourself." Joe laughed.

"Come over here 'n say that t' my face, brother, 'n Colby will be fightin' a handicap match cuz I showed y' jus' how good I am." Jon said with a growl.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, let's just go. Alicia, I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into with this lunatic." Colby interjected before things got out of hand. Jon reached out and smacked him on the head.

You just laughed at their antics. They were brothers through and through. They didn't look anything alike, but they certainly complemented each other. The four of you left the locker room and made your way down to the gorilla position so that Joe and Colby could get ready for their match.

The wrestlers were milling around the gorilla area listening to the announcers and the matches. Stage hands were there, prepping people and getting them in the order they were going out. The scene was a busy one and there were many faces that you had never seen before. Joe and Colby were facing two brothers from the Rhodes family, they said. One was dressed in a gold and black body suit with gold and black face paint. Jon explained that he was Goldust. His brother Cody wore blue wrestling trunks and sported a close-cropped hairstyle. The two couldn't look more different if they tried.

Goldust and Cody entered the ring first, followed by Joe and Colby who were decked out in their tactical ring gear. The match started quickly with Colby going after Cody, but Cody quickly tagged in his brother. Colby tagged in Joe who smashed Goldust into the corner. He repeatedly slammed Goldust with his arm and then walked away to taunt Cody. Goldust came out from his corner and brought Joe down hard. Cody was able to get a tag on his brother, switching their places. Joe rolled over to Colby, bringing him back into the action. Cody performed a move that Jon said was a delayed vertical suplex. He seemed impressed since this was one of Cody's old school moves. But, despite it all Colby was able to counter with some crazy acrobatic moves and pin Cody with his curb stomp.

The match finished to the crowd roaring its approval and Jon thrilled that his brothers came through with the win. He patted Colby on the back and gave Joe a hug as they walked back from their match. You stood to the side, but Joe came over to give you a sweaty hug as well. "You stay here to cheer on our brother, baby girl, we're going to go get changed really quick and we'll be right back with you," he said while he lifted you up in the giant bear hug.

You watched them walk away and smiled at Jon while he got into fight mode. He was bouncing and twitching all over, ready for his match. At this point a huge man came to stand in the gorilla position. He had to be about seven feet tall and weigh over 300 pounds. He was dressed in some sort of demon-like garb with a horrific mask and obvious fake long scraggly hair. Jon nodded at him and he sort of grunted back.

Deciding that the best bet was to keep to the background, you stepped back to give them space. Jon saw you fade back and he quickly came over to you, "That's Glen, Demon Kane tonight. I'll see y' after I kick his ass." He smiled and kissed you on the cheek. Glen must have heard him because he chuckled and patted you on the head.

Glen's music hit first, and he walked slowly out of the gorilla position down the ramp. The pyrotechnics of his entrance were amazing and radiated heat into the back area. You sat down on your stool, ready to watch the match. Jon's music hit next and the crowd went wild as he ran down the ramp and slid into the ring. The bell rang, and the two wrestlers started to fight in earnest. Jon's flailing blows and quick moves seemed to be a decent match up against the bigger man's huge fists. Jon succeeded in getting the Demon out of the ring and was hitting his head against the ring steps. The excitement of watching was all encompassing.

You were so engrossed in your viewing of the match that you didn't notice a couple people had joined you in the gorilla position. You finally turned and much to your chagrin you noticed Nicole and some other blond Diva standing next to you.

"Well, well, well, it looks like you're finally dressing the part of the ring rat you are," Nicole said in a clipped tone.

"Um, excuse me?" You blustered, sure that a ring rat was what you thought it was, but you would have to verify later.

"You heard me, nice outfit." She said with a little snicker. She turned to her companion and said, "See Danielle, this is the little carrier-on I was telling you about. It's just so cute how she's inserted herself into the Shield and now she thinks she's with Jon." She laughed at her own joke.

You were starting to get angry, but also you had no one you knew around. The girl Nicole had called Danielle was looking you up and down as if she was memorizing every single fault she could find.

"Look," you finally said, in your most even tone, "I don't want to cause any trouble, I'm just sitting here watching Jon's match. And missing most of it thanks to you girls. Why don't you just move along, and I'll stay out of your hair."

"Awww, isn't that so sweet. She thinks she's special. Sitting here watching her 'boyfriend's' match." Danielle said in a syrupy sweet voice, "You know you're nothing to these guys, right? Just another ring rat that they pick up, have their fun with and drop when they're done. You'll be no different."

You blushed at that, all those insecure feelings mounting up. You were used to regular war, you were used to how men fought, but women? You never could deal with that. These women were gorgeous on the outside, hideous on the inside, sure, but they were gorgeous. Anyone could see that. This whole situation was making you uncomfortable. Why wouldn't they just leave and let you watch in peace. The crowd cheered loudly, and you glanced at the screen, Jon was up in some sort of chokehold, attempting to get free of the Demon Kane.

"Oh poo, I guess poor baby Jon isn't going to win tonight. Maybe you should choose a winner to date, like my John." Nicole condescended.

Frustrated with the whole situation you tried to figure out the best way out. You didn't want to leave gorilla and cause Jon to panic but staying here and listening to these girls was going to cause you to flip your shit.


	24. Chapter 24

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Additional warning: this one deals with past rapes and suicide a bit, people, give it a skip if that's too much for you** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 24**

"Oy, like your piece of ass is the best thing out there," a British accent interjected. You looked behind Nicole and Danielle to see Saraya and Mercedes standing there.

Sighing with relief you nodded gratefully to the two girls. You were happy to see a kind face or two instead of these two drama queens who were happy to fucking attack you.

"Hey Saraya, I was just having a chat with our new resident ring rat here. She's apparently under the impression she's here to stay." Nicole said.

"Maybe she is, and maybe she's got a better chance with Jon than you ever will, Danielle. And, Nikki, if I remember correctly, John and you are having a bit of a problem in the 'perfect couple' category, hmm?" Mercedes interjected into the conversation.

"Oh, shut up, you don't know what you're talking about," Danielle quickly replied. "I never wanted Jon. And frankly, even if I ever did, after seeing how far he goes down into the pool of available ring trash I wouldn't want him now anyways."

You were really starting to get angry. This was ridiculous. These girls acted like they were in high school. Didn't they know that there were way more important things in the fucking world than who likes who and who is the coolest?!

"Look, why don't you and your little ho friend just skip along and leave Alicia be. She's just enjoying her time here and Jon just finished his match, so I'm sure he'd be happy to set everyone straight." Saraya said to the two girls.

Sure enough, you looked over to the monitor and the referee had Jon's hand raised in the middle of the ring. The Demon Kane was holding his head on the outside of the ring, looking mad about the fact that he was over by the announcement table instead of in the ring pummeling Jon. He slowly made his way back toward the back. Fucking hell, you'd missed almost the whole fucking match thanks to these two bitches.

Jon left the ring and came back to gorilla. His face lit up when he saw you standing there, but it quickly turned to a frown when he noticed the tension in the air and the Divas standing there. He looked from Danielle and Nicole to Saraya and Mercedes and back to you.

"Y' ok here, cupcake?" He asked softly in your ear as he put his arm around you. His body was covered in sweat from the exertion from the ring and his body thrummed with energy. He kept his fighting stance even with his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"Oh, we're just having a friendly little chat here, Jon," Danielle said as she ran her fingernail down his arm. He flinched back from her touch, obviously disgusted. You bristled at her action. Enough was enough.

"Yes, we're just sitting here, missing watching you fight so that these, ahem, helpful women could instruct me on wrestling terminology." You said coldly. "I believe the newest term I learned today was 'ring rat'. Apparently, I am one. Oh, and we were also discussing clothing options. I know you were happy with my outfit, so apparently were these two lovely ladies as they were so quick to point out how appropriate it was for my new role as your carrier-on."

Saraya snickered at your statements and Mercedes full on laughed out loud. Jon, however had a different reaction. He looked at Danielle and Nicole with anger and then turned to you and said, "Come home with me. Fly t' Vegas with me t'night."

Your mouth opened in shock. Danielle coughed in surprise and turned to stalk off, Nicole quickly turned to follow. Saraya and Mercedes burst into laughter at their retreat.

"Alicia my lovely, you are a true hero among women. I love to see those two bitches put in their place." Saraya chuckled. "And Jon, sorry we missed your match, but congratulations. On all fronts." She winked at the both of you and with that the two of them turned to take their leave, giggling as they went.

You looked at Jon, "What did you mean 'fly with you to Vegas'? Like just up and leave the WWE road trip with you? Aren't you supposed to work?"

"Exactly what I said, cupcake. We have a couple days off 'n I usually spend 'em at my home in Vegas. I want y' t' come with me. Y' still have leave time, right? 'S not like y' have anywhere else t' be, right? If y' still wanna be with me, that is. Come with me. We'll have some fun. I'll show y' th' sights and show y' my Vegas."

Holy crap! This was too awesome for words! Fucking Vegas vacation combined with your already awesome backstage WWE shit? You smiled at him, "Ok, but this time I'm not stealing your bag off the flight."

His face split into a grin and he pulled you into a hug. "We'll make sure there's no mess-ups with baggage or flight plans. I'll carry the fuckin' bags so y' can't steal 'em. If y' want, I can even have Joe make th' arrangements so we know there's no fuckups on my end." He laughed.

"I'm sure that's not necessary, I've never been to Vegas before. It will be cool to take that off my bucket list of places to visit before I die." You said.

"Again." He added. You gave him a glare and punched him in the arm.

The drive to the airport was uneventful. Jon turned in the rental car and you both got boarded onto the plane in first class seats again. He gave you the window, just like the first time you both flew together. This time, however, no one had any clue who you were, and you liked it better that way. Jon kept his baseball cap and sunglasses on until you were both seated. Thankfully, he wasn't noticed either.

Your leg was not bothering you as much with all the walking around you had been doing but sitting in a plane seat for that long was still going to hurt. Jon looked over to you as the plane started to take off, patted your leg and smiled. "Hope this flight is better than th' last one we took together." He chuckled.

"Oh well, I guess if you manage to stay awake and not get grumpy it will be loads better," you laughed.

"Fuck, 's already better, y' didn't start out with 'nope' as y'r first sentence."

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, well like I said, grumpy gets what he gets."

"Hey, twenty questions?" He asked as the plane leveled out to flight altitude. The flight attendants were starting to come down the aisle getting drink orders and stopped to get both of your orders. You ordered a ginger ale and Jon got himself a beer. You didn't feel like drinking in the air, it always made your stomach upset.

"Sure, I still have half a veto left, go for it," you snickered at him.

"Yesterday when we were havin' dinner with Joe 'n Colby y' said that the people who decide to kill themselves over there is the fuckin' worst. Did y' have t' deal with that a lot? I mean, did a lot o' people die that way? Y' hear about it how they kill themselves when they come back, but y' don't hear about people doin' that over there," he said quietly, not wanting other people to listen in on your conversation.

You sighed, honestly it would do good to talk about this shit. It seemed to help when you talk to him about it. You leaned in to say softly, "Yeah. Yeah, I had to deal with it a lot. Erm, you know how I said I was in a hospital for the first part of my deployment out there? Well, I didn't tell you that most of the time I worked as the nurse in the mental health patient holding ward. That was where all the soldiers who couldn't make it work in their brains anymore went to stay until either they were 'cured' by the psychiatrists who were stationed out there with us or they were sent home." You took a deep breath before continuing.

Jon rubbed his hand up and down your leg and then reached for your hand. He said, "Y' know that fuckin' half veto is shit, right? Y' don't hav' t' tell me anything y' don't wanna."

You chuckled softly, "Yeah, I know. But it's so cathartic to finally talk about it all. Like, it doesn't even matter anymore after it comes out of my mouth. My brain isn't trying to make me relive so much anymore since I started talking it out with you. I feel better.

"Anyway, most of the guys that tried to off themselves over there didn't succeed. They would mostly just threaten to kill themselves. They generally just needed a break from the horrible sights they had seen. Fuck, we all needed a fucking break. There was a guy who went into a port-a-potty and put his M-16 to his head. He pulled the trigger. That actually takes some sort of guts, you know? He pulled the fucking trigger. Fucking thing is that he only shot himself in the side of the face. Didn't even kill himself. We took care of him as best we could and then sent him to Germany to the hospital there. They treated him and sent him stateside. Later, I read in the Army Stars and Stripes magazine that the military had awarded him a purple heart for injuries sustained on the battlefield. That's why I never believe the news now, you know? I know for a fucking fact it's skewed. There have been many more times when I saw that happen."

Jon nodded in understanding. He didn't interrupt you talking, he just kept holding your hand and listening you go on about the horrors that soldiers fight on the ground and in their head.

"When we first met I think I told you that I envied those people who could lose themselves inside their heads. You've seen so much first-hand with me about how horrible a fucked-up mind can be. I mean, you have your past too, so you know that events just fuck with your reality. I said it was the worst thing because I… I had this friend." You paused again to get the words together, "She was fucking, well she is a friggin' warrior. She makes me look like a softie. Obviously since I'm talking about her in the present, she's not dead so you don't need to worry about that." You patted his hand because his face had clouded with concern over your words.

"She was attached to a Cavalry Scout unit before me. She wasn't married at the time, but she was all but engaged to one of the soldiers in our unit. He's a great guy, you'd probably love him. While she was with the scouts the commander there was a total prick. He regularly told her that if she wouldn't have sex with him he would withhold items from the unit, like hot food, phone calls to home and general morale shit. So, yeah, he raped her on the regular and she did it for the 'good of the unit'."

Tears burned the back of your eyes as you told your friend's story. Jon reached over to cup your face with his hand, rubbing the tears out of your eyes with his thumb. "Alicia, this is too much, y' don't have t' keep on with this." He said softly.

"No, her story deserves to be told, even if it is just to you. She deserves so much more than this. Her name is Marcie, by the way, just the most amazing woman ever. You think I'm amazing, you really need to meet her. She's married now and has a kid on the way. It's pretty awesome to think about cuz we both didn't think we'd even make it out of Iraq alive. Anyway, so she dealt with this for a long time. While she was on the front lines, I just worked at the hospital. I did work, and I saw stuff, sure, but she was the real soldier at the time. In the trenches.

"She came back to our unit after being attached to the scouts for six months. I could tell something was wrong, but rape and all has that stigma attached to it. You just don't talk about it. She tried to get into the swing of working in the hospital with me. Top, my first sergeant, made her my roommate which was so awesome cuz we'd been through so much together. We hung out, dealt with the traumas that came in, smoked a ton and generally passed our horrific hellish time over there. A couple months after she came back, I was working night shift. Nothing big was going on and I was sitting in patient hold watching a movie while my 'crazies' slept for the night. Marcie walked in with her rifle, which in itself was not odd since we had to take our weapons everywhere, but it was different this time. She was holding it away from herself and walking super slowly."

You leaned over to rest your head on Jon's shoulder while he rubbed your knee. The tears were falling again, but you didn't really care. It was good to talk about Marcie. You missed her so much.

"I got up from my desk and walked over to her. It seemed like she wanted me to take her weapon, an odd thing in the military unless you're going to the bathroom. I took the rifle from her and noticed it had a magazine in and the rifle was locked and loaded and on semi. I quickly cleared it and put it on safe and asked her what was up. She was like a zombie. With almost no emotion she told me that she was going to kill herself that night. She couldn't live with all that they had done to her. She couldn't think about it anymore. I picked up my phone and called our psychologist and Top, and while we waited for them to join us I asked her why she stopped, why she came to me."

Sobbing you turned your head to look into Jon's sad eyes, "She said the only thing that stopped her was she didn't want me to find her. She didn't even care about her own life anymore, but she cared enough about mine that she didn't want me to be fucked up for life by finding my best fucking friend dead in our room. I just hugged her and waited. Being the patient hold 'nurse' I had to be in charge of holding her for transport. I had to be the one to inject her with the drugs. I had to tie her down to the litter for transport so she wouldn't hurt herself. I had to fucking do it all while the bastards who did this to her will always be free to do whatever the fuck they want. I fucking died, and this story hurts more than any death I ever had. So yeah, they deal with suicide a lot over there. They just keep it all under wraps; it looks better for them that way."

With that you leaned your head against Jon's shoulder again and started to sob softly. He didn't shush you, he didn't try to get you to stop the feelings that were overwhelming you. He let you embrace the feelings and purge the vile story from your brain. He was your comfort while you were a storm.


	25. Chapter 25

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Additional warning: this one deals with past rapes a bit, people, give it a skip if that's too much for you** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 25**

Jon held onto you as you cried. He tucked your head under his chin and hummed his relaxing tune. You relaxed into the hold and stopped crying after a while, sniffling just a little. He leaned back and tilted your head up with his finger. He leaned in and gently kissed your lips and then pulled back and cupped your face in his hands.

"Y're fuckin' amazin', y' know that? Y've gone through so fuckin' much and yet y're still here. Y' keep going, even through all this shit. I've been through some shit in my life, but these stories y' tell me are insane. It's amazing that someone went through one, 'n y're sittin' here with me havin' gone through all of 'em. Don't ever forget that, Alicia, don't ever forget that y're amazin'."

You chuckled a little, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's someone else's story. I just told it." You looked over to the little screen where they told you the length of the flight and how much time you had left. You shifted a little in your seat, your leg protesting the amount of sitting that you had done today. An hour had passed with your story; there was still an hour and a half left in the flight. At this rate, you were going to have to start paying this man for his therapy sessions.

"Y' were there, it counts." He rasped out seriously. His eyes were filled with compassion for what you had been through, even vicariously with your friend. "Y' said that y' were with those scouts too, though. Did, uh, did…" he dropped his conversation off, not wanting to say the question out loud that you knew he wanted to ask.

"Did it happen to me? Is that what you want to know?" You asked softly.

"Yeah, I guess tha's what I was askin'." He murmured.

"I wish I could say it hasn't. I wish with all my heart I could say that everyone I've ever been with has been my choice. But, I can't. A few men decided that for me. I was too far from help, no one would have heard me scream." Jon gripped your hand harder at that statement, you could feel his muscles tense and knew it was in anger for what had happened to you. "It didn't happen nearly as much as Marcie, and it was a couple different guys, not just one. I don't know if that makes it better or worse, honestly." You said with a slight shrug.

"Fuckin' hell cupcake, what the fuck kinda life did y' lead over there? How are y' still even able t' trust someone? Like me? How are y' able to jus' trust me through all this?" He asked you earnestly.

"Honestly? I don't know. You feel right. Being with you feels right. You seem to understand my crazy more than anyone I have met in a long fucking time. I know this is in-fucking-sane, getting on a plane to your house after I've only known you for four days. My parents would be shocked and appalled that I was being so stupid to follow a stranger around the Midwest then to Vegas, and even sleep with him. But, there's not much that doesn't make my parents appalled. They're strict Bible believing people. I was raised in a conservative Christian loving family, and war has turned me into a tattooed crazy atheist. I don't really fit in there anymore."

You sighed. "You asked about why I wasn't calling my family on the first day, or was it the second?" You giggled, "it's been such a blur I really can't remember. Anyway, they don't really understand this shit. I couldn't ever sit down and tell them all of this. I couldn't tell them what really happened to me. What horrors I've seen, what I've been through. Even just the small stuff seemed to make my mom and dad get real quiet and sad. I just stopped talking about things after my first deployment. They don't need to worry any more than they already do. Sometimes I cry for what seems like no reason, but I'm just remembering something. They just don't understand."

Jon hugged you to him again. He didn't seem to know what to say. You knew that the 'twenty questions' game had gone deep this time, and you just hoped that it wasn't too much for him to process. It was pretty heavy stuff to deal with even for the therapists you had spoken with, and eventually people pitied you so much that you just stopped talking about it. You just hoped beyond hope that Jon wasn't pitying you now. You hazarded a glance up to his face and he seemed to be just thinking about what you had just said.

"I understand." He said finally. "Y're safe with me, y' know. No matter what, I'll keep y' as safe 'n sound as I can. As long as y're with me."

You snuggled into his hold. "Hey, ask me another one. Just maybe something a little lighter."

"Yeah? Y' still wanna play this game?" He smiled down at you.

You returned his smile, "Sure, still have my half veto, don't I?"

"Ok, so what's y'r favorite thing t' cook for me?" He asked finally.

You laughed, "What? Uh, I guess whatever you want me to cook. I'm French taught, but I know all the different world cuisines. I did baking for quite some time so I'm pretty good there as well. You just have to say what food you want to eat and then we get the ingredients for it. Simple as that, I'll make it."

"Serious? Anything? Aw man, I fuckin' miss Cincinnati chili. C'n y' make that f'r me? Oh! 'N maybe good Reuben sandwiches. Wait! What about barbeque? Y' know how t' make good ribs?" Jon was talking animatedly, and his face showed his excitement over the prospect of a home cooked meal. His grin was infectious, and you reached over to pat his cheek where his dimple had popped out again.

"Just how many days do we have off, Mr. Good? Seems to me like you're planning at least a week's worth of meals. And what exactly will you be doing while I slave away in the kitchen for you? Hmm?" You asked.

"I'll help. Y' know, stir shit. I've got a kiss th' cook apron. We c'n take turns wearin' it." His grin was in full force.

"Oy vey, I've created a monster. Ok, we'll pick a couple things from your list and we'll make them. Barbeque should probably not be on there cuz my sauce takes a day to make and then the ribs take forever to cook. So maybe chili and the Reuben? Oh! I also make a mean eggs benedict, but I make it country style with country gravy and biscuits. So, I guess it's not really eggs benedict but just a heart attack on a plate." You smiled at him, excited to get into a kitchen again. Until he had said something about you cooking you didn't realize how much you missed it.

"Do you have a nice kitchen?" You asked out of curiosity. You hoped that you weren't going to be in a teeny little apartment kitchen with no room to move around. But, it really didn't matter that much because any cooking would be fun.

"Yeah, I mean th' house is nice 'n all, I jus' don' really know how t' cook that well." He said.

"Why'd you move to Vegas? I mean, you're from Cincinnati, right? Why not live there?" You asked him.

He shrugged a bit and looked away from you for a minute. Turning back, he said, "I've told y' about my life growin' up. That place holds nothin' for me. Jus' some bad memories and I didn't wanna make a home there. I wanted t' go somewhere I could start over. Jus' be me, y' know? So, I settled on Vegas. Got me a house there an' every chance I get I go home. The desert is my playground now. I like t' run outside much more than any gym. I don't bring anyone here 'cept the guys. They've both been here. Joe 'n his girlfriend 'n Colby and that damn dog."

"Wait, Colby has a dog? That's cute. I love dogs! What's its name?" You asked.

"Fuckin' named th' thing Kevin," He chortled.

"Ah, Kevin, yes, a well-known dog's name." You laughed, "I wish I could have a dog. With my deployment schedule and lack of a real home I've never been able to own one. When I'm done with this 'finding myself journey' and get my shit straight, I'm going to get a house and a dog. It's going to be a big dog too. One for protection, but one for giant doggy cuddles too."

Jon smiled at that. "Yeah? I'm gone too much t' have a dog. Wouldn't want t' hire someone t' look out for it while I was gone, 'n don' have family like Colby t' watch it f'r me."

"Well," you said, "if you want, when I get my dog you can come visit it and pretend it's yours. You can even help me choose the name."

"Really? Y'd do that f'r me? Sweet! Fuckin' Princess Cupcake Kitten Esquire the Third. Sounds like a friggin' awesome name, right?" Jon smiled genuinely at you.

"Uh, we'll discuss that at a later date. Maybe bench that name for right now." You chuckled.

"'S fuckin' better than Kevin," Jon grumbled. "Hey, I have another question f'r y', if that's ok." Jon said then, seriously.

You looked at him cautiously, hoping that it wasn't another war question right now. You didn't think you could handle another one of those. "Erm, yeah? I mean I don't know if I want to go into seriously heavy topics again on this flight, but sure, shoot."

"Don' know if this is 'heavy', but what happens when y'r time is done? Like when y' have t' go back? Are y' still in th' Army? Like, will y' have t' stay in for a long time?" Jon asked you.

"Wow, that's more than one question, Mr. Good. We're going to seriously have to renegotiate the agreement we have in this game." You teased.

"Well, jus' choose one t' answer then." He groused.

You laughed at his grumpy answer and said, "Right now I'm on an actual leave from the military. Like a vacation. I haven't had one in a year and a half. I finally got well enough from all the surgeries, physical therapy and regular therapy that I was able to take this vacation. I'm too broken for the Army to get any more use out of me, but I still have to deal with getting out. I have to go through the med-board process. That's where a medical board looks at your file and your medical records and they determine how broken you are. They determine how much disability you will have and how and when you get to get out of the military. I'll probably have at least six more months in, maybe more, maybe less. It all depends on how much is wrong with me."

You sighed and continued, "Right now I'm stationed in Colorado, but that's not home to me. My parents are in the Pacific Northwest, but that's not really home to me anymore either. I don't honestly know where I'll go when I get out. I guess I could wander for a while. It's done me wonders this time around. Look where it got me, sitting here, next to you, in swanky first-class seats that are even paid for. I'll figure all that out when it comes, I guess. Right now, I'm working on just living in the moment. And, right here, right now, I am loving this moment." You smiled up into his face as you said the last part.

"Me too," Jon said as he smiled back at you and leaned down to capture your lips again. You accepted the kiss with a grin. Even with all the crazy therapy conversations and the panic attacks, the hectic schedule of the past few days and learning about a whole new world, this was happiness. He was your happiness right now.


	26. Chapter 26

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Additional warning: dealing with coma, surgeries, loss of fertility...and some margaritas because we all need one** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 26**

The lights of Vegas were bright against the dark sky as your plane circled around to the airport to land. You gripped Jon's hand in excitement. He looked over at you and grinned at you. You could tell you weren't the only one who was excited about the next couple days. The flight had passed quickly and with the conversation and company. You had even forgotten your hatred of flying.

When the plane landed Jon reached out to help you stand from your seat. Grateful for the help up you took his hand. Your leg was definitely protesting the amount of time sitting in a seat without moving for three hours.

You gave Jon a slight laugh as he grabbed both of your duffle bags. "Tol' y' I'm not gonna get into a bag mix up this time, cupcake. This time 'round it's gonna be fuckin' perfect. Jus' watch." He whispered in your ear as you waited to deplane. His voice sent shivers down your spine. He placed his hand at your lower back and rubbed slightly in circles. The feelings he was creating in your body had you remembering the pleasure he had given you last night and the possibilities of the nights to come. Vegas was going to be a good time.

After baggage claim, you headed to the taxi waiting area. The heat of the desert, even at night, hit hard as you walked out the airport doors onto the sidewalk. You were grateful that in the past couple days you had become more comfortable with your body and were wearing something more appropriate for warm weather.

The taxi ride took you to the outskirts of town. It was nice to see that Jon didn't live right in the middle of the strip. You guessed that made sense since he regarded his privacy. The house you drove up to, however, was not what you were expecting to see.

A huge two-story stucco house with a three-car garage stood out in the neighborhood. The front yard was filled with palm trees and you could see a balcony wrapping around the top story. Jon exited the taxi first, followed by the driver who opened the trunk to help with the bags. You sat in the car for a minute, marveling about how amazingly ridiculous this was. You were going to spend the next couple days in the house of a WWE superstar. But to you he was just Jon with the good heart and sexy dimples.

Jon opened your door and leaned in, "Y' comin' Alicia? 'S pro'lly more comfortable inside th' house than inside th' cab." He chuckled.

You blushed and quickly exited the cab while Jon paid and tipped the driver. He grabbed the bags and led you up the walk to his house. Inside the entryway was gorgeous. The earth tones of the stucco made their way inside the house and up the stairs to the second story. All the wood accents were muted against the natural feel of the home. You smiled as you looked around, this house was exactly what you thought would fit Jon. He dropped the bags in the entryway and offered to show you around.

Grabbing your hand, he led you into the large living room where a fireplace stood ready to warm people on a cold desert night. You could envision cuddling with Jon on the couch while the lights were out, and the curtains were open. Just watching the night go by.

He then led you into the kitchen and you let out a small gasp. The wood theme from the house was carried into here on all the cabinets, but it made the light gray granite counter tops pop. The kitchen was huge. Four or five people could fit in there without anyone getting in the way of the person cooking, even with the huge island in the middle. So much for cooking meals in a tiny apartment kitchen. The stainless-steel appliances looked brand new.

"Meet y'r expectations cupcake? Think we could figure out how t' cook a couple meals in here?" Jon asked after he had given you a moment to look around.

"Um, yeah. I've never had a kitchen this big to cook in. Every other place I've cooked I've felt like people were underfoot, but I don't think you could be underfoot in this kitchen while I was cooking even if you tried." You said as you opened cabinets. You discovered a blender and alcohol mixers over one of the smaller counter spaces and looked over to Jon, "This where you make all your liquid diet drinks after your workouts?"

He guffawed, "Yup, liquid diet margaritas. We could make a couple 'n sit outside if y' want."

"Hmm, that sounds good. What else does this humble abode have to offer? A nice deck?"

He nodded and pointed to the back door. "Come on, let's continue th' tour. Th' outside's one of th' best parts."

You followed as he opened the back door to reveal a desert oasis. There was a huge pool and a hot tub as well as a huge grilling area for outdoor eating.

"Oh wow, this is gorgeous Jon. How can you ever leave this place?" You asked in awe.

He smiled at you, "Now y' know why I made this my home. Let's make a coupl'a drinks and sit out here for a while. Don't know 'bout you, but 'm not tired jus' yet."

You grinned back, "Oh I could definitely have a drink after this day, one of your liquid diet margaritas sounds pretty good right about now."

He chuckled and you both returned to the kitchen. While he made the drinks you asked him about his life here. He told you about how he enjoyed the ability to bike in the desert and free climb during his runs. You envied his freedom here, no one to report to and no one intruding. You took the drinks to the chairs outside to enjoy the beauty of the evening.

"So, um, twenty questions again?" Jon asked in his gravelly voice after a few minutes of companionable silence.

Rolling your eyes you snickered into your drink. You looked over to him and shrugged, "Sure, why not."

"Well, if this is gonna go farther than just th' good bits we got into last night, I jus' wanted t' know how come y' won't take off y'r shirts. It's ok wit' me if y' never want to, but if it's jus' cus y' think y're ugly there or somethin', well that's a shit reason. Y' have t' know y're fuckin' beautiful. I've told y' that. Y' have t' know by now I don' care how y' come, jus' that y're here is good enough. I know y' said y' have scars, but like I said, everyone has 'em. 'S not like they're who y' are or nothin'." He rasped out softly.

"I told you I got bad ones there. That's pretty much it." You said quietly. You weren't sure that you wanted to finish out this conversation, but you could definitely finish another drink if he offered. You hated thinking about everything those scars meant, you hated knowing that things were forever different for you.

"Tha's not jus' it, though, is it? Y' c'n have bad scars 'n shit, but these seem t' make y' shut down. Like y' tense up whenever I even come close t' touchin' y' there. Do they hurt still?"

"Nooo," You sighed. He deserved an answer to this. "Not really. I mean they still feel weird. I keep wondering if they'll ever heal totally." You swirled the rest of your margarita in the glass and refused to meet his eyes. You figured if you were going to continue sleeping with this guy, he might as well know the whole truth. Not like you could change the past anyway, and maybe he wouldn't care… maybe he would. "I told you about my surgeries when I died, right? Well, the reason for those surgeries wasn't just the shrapnel I got hit with in the field. Or, I guess it kind of was all connected, but in a weird way." You realized that you were talking in circles and stopped a second to compose your thoughts.

"When I first got hit, the shrapnel went into my side. It didn't look too bad at first. They were mostly worried about the fact that I had lost consciousness on the battlefield and didn't wake back up during transport. I guess they figured they would get out all the little bits when I got to a larger hospital. The medics aren't really set up for major surgery anyway, nor are we trained. I mean, sure, I've performed small surgeries on people, but we didn't majorly open people up or anything. Our job was to pack them up, make sure they were stable and send them up to a higher echelon of care."

You took a deep breath and drained the rest of your drink. Jon waited patiently, not interrupting or touching you. He understood how difficult this obviously was for you and allowed you to gather yourself.

"Thing is, when that blast went off, it sent a wave through my body. We were so close to it. I told you I had internal bleeding, I just didn't tell you how bad it was. They had stabilized me and were removing the shrapnel when I flatlined for a minute. They got me back the first time, but that was when they figured out the extent of my problem. The bleeding had gone from just a little bit to a whole fuck-ton during my trip to the hospital. The doctors went into emergency mode and slit me up the middle to see how bad it was. My insides were pretty mangled. I still can't believe that I'm here walking around after reading my medical records from the hospital." The memories of reading those doctor's notes were still fresh. Reading about all the ways they had to bring you back to life and the ending future diagnosis.

"When I say insides, I mean everything," You said barely above a whisper, tears burning the back of your eyes. "I had hurt part of my lower intestine, but worse…" you paused again. Jon reached over then to take your hand. You squeezed it and turned to face him. "Worse is they said that it destroyed my ability to ever have kids. Those parts of me were so injured that they had to remove them to save my life. I wasn't even awake to know that they were making that choice for me." The tears were falling in earnest now. Jon scooted his chair over to wrap his arm around you. "I ended up getting a bad infection from the bleeding. They had to open me up so many times that they just ended up leaving me in a coma for almost a month while they kept my stomach open. I guess it was easier than having to put me under anesthesia if I woke up. Part of me also thinks that they didn't want to really deal with telling me how bad I got hurt. I don't know how many surgeries I ended up having, but I did get, like, fifteen killer scars on my stomach as a constant reminder of that, so bonus. I guess during that time I developed blood clots in my arm too, so that was another thing. They had to cut open my arm and thanks to that I lost all feeling in my ring finger on my left hand."

"When I woke up I was in a hospital room alone. I was surrounded by machines and IV tubes. My throat hurt, and I realized I was on a breathing machine with a tube down my throat. Looking down, my stomach was split wide open like a fucking filleted fish. My arm was in a weird air tube; my arms and legs were tied down to the bed. I had no sense of time or where I was. I started screaming for help, but no sounds came out. The tube blocked everything. I guess they saw the machine readouts change and a nurse came in to check on me. He was happy I was awake finally, but they wouldn't take out the fucking tube. I had to wait another half an hour or so. I'm not really sure how long it was. It felt like forever. I kept begging to have them remove it. They just kept smiling at me. I kept screaming, but no one understood. I wasn't actually making any sounds. The doctors finally came in and gave the ok to remove my breathing tube. They were so fucking proud of their work. The girl who survived. The girl who came back from the brink so many fucking times. I just knew I was hurt, everything hurt. I couldn't talk for a day, and even then, I didn't really have anyone to talk to. My parents were in the states and I didn't have anyone in the hospital with me." You sighed again, hating to bring back these memories. "Fucking broken body," You mumbled, "I have to be on blood thinners for life now. So, yeah, I hate that part of me. I hate looking at it and knowing what it represents. I hate knowing that the choice to bring life into the world will never be mine. I lost so fucking much over there, I just never thought that I'd lose that part of me too."

You put your empty glass down on the deck next to your chair. Jon pulled you over to his lap and held on to you while you just sat there. One hand rubbed your leg just under the hem of your skirt while his other hand rested on your lower back. He rested his head on yours and softly hummed his random tune. Your tears had stopped. You had cried so much over losing part of yourself. You sat there in silence, wondering about what your admission had done for this new relationship. You weren't even a whole woman anymore.

"Aw fuck, Alicia... fuck. Cupcake, 'm so fuckin' sorry. 'M so fuckin' sorry you went through that." Jon rasped out finally while slightly rocking you back and forth on the chair. "Y' can't hate that part of you though, y' can't hate y'rself just cus of this. Y' didn't have anythin' t' do with it. Fuckin' life sucks sometimes. You 'n I both know that. We both know what a fuckin' shitty hand we c'n be dealt. I think tha's what made me look at y' and realize y' an' I were alike. We both know." He kissed your temple after he said this, hugging you a little tighter.

You turned in his lap, "Yeah, I just can't seem to pull any good cards lately though. Well, except for you. You're definitely a good hand to bet on." You said to him with a small smile.

He chuckled, "Yep, 'n this good hand says we should take a midnight swim."


	27. Chapter 27

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Additional warning: some smutty times here** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 27**

You gave him a shaky giggle, "Midnight swim, Mr. Good? I didn't pack for that possibility. We might have to alter plans unless we want to shock the neighbors."

"Mmmm, nah, 's fine. Believe me, we're hidden from anyone seein' what we do. Part of th' reason I chose this house. Jus' strip t' whatever y' wanna swim in." Punctuating his statement, he snapped your bra strap. He smirked at you with an evil glint in his eye.

You slapped his hand away from your bra. "Ah, well, in that case I guess it wouldn't hurt to relax a little after all this travel." You smiled in earnest now, getting up off his lap to get out of some of your clothes. You unhooked your bra under your shirt and slid the straps off your shoulders, pulling it off without removing your top. Dropping it to the ground, you then went to remove your skirt. Jon stayed seated while you turned toward the pool and away from him, showing off your ass. He lifted the rest of his drink to his mouth and drained it in one gulp, not even trying to hide the fact that he was watching your every move. You looped your fingers in the hem of your skirt, bent over a little and wiggled until it dropped to the ground, leaving you in just your shirt and tiny bikini underwear. Stepping out of where the skirt had pooled on the ground over your shoes, you slowly sauntered to the edge of the pool. Looking over your shoulder you grinned, "You coming? Or are you just going to sit and watch the show?"

"Fuck me, cupcake, I'm about t' come alright. Tha's one fuckin' great show y' put on." He said with a rasp as he palmed the front of his pants, adjusting himself and bringing your attention to the effect you had on him. It made you feel powerful to have that effect. It gave your confidence an even greater boost.

You turned back to the pool and dove in, relishing the feeling of the cool water hitting your skin. Your underwear and tank top stuck to you like a second skin. You could get used to this. The relaxation, the freedom, the pure enjoyment of the moment came with each stroke. You had always loved swimming. They used pool therapy when you were in recovery. The low impact exercise was good for strengthening muscles while not hurting you further. Although therapy was not always enjoyable, the pool always did hold a special place for you.

In Iraq there had been a couple pools that you were allowed to swim in during your deployment. It had given you time to escape from the day to day grind of wounded and boredom. The USO had set up a retreat in a city that had fallen to the US Army. This was where soldiers who needed a couple days of rest and relaxation were sent. It wasn't as good as getting a full vacation from the war, but it was good enough for a reset. You had to admit though, swimming in an abandoned palace in a gold rimmed pool paled in comparison to swimming in the backyard of this sexy man. You would much rather be here with him than in some sultan's dusty old palace any day.

Jon finally rose from his chair after watching you for a few minutes and stripped off his shirt. Your mouth formed an involuntary smile as you watched his muscles bunch and flex as he lifted it over his head. This man had the fucking body of a god. Everywhere was muscle. You itched to run your fingers down his chest, tracing the shape of his pecs down his ridiculously fit stomach and further. He saw the smile form on your face and returned a saucy one of his own. He knew exactly what this was doing to you. Dropping his shirt next to your clothes, he reached down to his unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Watching you watch him, Jon shot you another grin and comically wiggled a little like you had done with your skirt. He turned and showed you his trim waist that led down to a magnificent ass while he wriggled out of his jeans and boots, leaving on just his red boxer briefs. You giggled at the mimicry.

"Cute show you put on there, Mr. Good, really cute. They say that imitation _is_ the sincerest form of flattery. However, I have to say I think you might have me beat in the good show department." You inadvertently licked your lips before you spoke again, "You going to finally join me now?"

He gave you another smirk and dove in to join you. When he surfaced you splashed him, grateful that all these antics had calmed down your emotions. He quickly grabbed your waist and picked you up out of the water. Lifting you up over his head with the ease of someone who lifted men twice your size on a daily basis, he threw you easily into the middle of the pool. Spluttering, you surfaced with an evil grin. This meant war. You dove down quickly into the water, keeping your eyes open as you swam towards his legs. He was standing a little over waist deep, so you went for his ankles. Attempting to pull him under you grabbed at a leg and yanked with all your strength. He faltered a little but did not go completely under. He reached out for your body, but you quickly swam away. Surfacing a few feet away, you beamed at him.

"Better not start somethin' y' don't wanna finish here, cupcake. I don't tend t' fight fair." Jon rasped out into the night.

"Just try to catch me," you dared him. You quickly dove again attempting to swim as far away from the man as you could while you came up with a new game plan. Not letting you get far, Jon swiftly swam over to you and grabbed you again. You attempted to get out of his grasp, but he held tight, pulling you in close. You knew the game was over, but you had a feeling that a new one was about to begin. You could tell the game of chase had gotten him excited. It had gotten you excited too. You wanted to devour this man and you wanted him to do the same to you.

His arms came around your waist and he pulled you taut against his hard body. Smoothing your hands up his torso you wound them around his neck, tilting up your head for a kiss.

"You deserve a prize, sir. You won." You chuckled.

He grinned, showing off his dimples. "Y' bet y'r ass I did. I always win. Shoulda warned y' about that too." He murmured as he lowered his head to claim your waiting mouth. You slanted your head to the side to allow him better access. His tongue snaked out to lick the seam of your lips and you immediately opened to him. Plunging his tongue in, he plundered your mouth while you moaned and held onto him for dear life. Your legs grew a mind of their own and wrapped themselves around his waist, grinding your center into his growing length. Your hands groped up his neck and your fingers ran through his damp curls. His mouth moved from yours and began a hot trek down your neck to your collar bone. He nibbled, sucked and bit his way down while his hands moved from around your waist to the bottom of your shirt. His fingers slid under the hem to graze along your hip bones. You shivered involuntarily from the onslaught of sensations filling your body.

Suddenly, as if water was dumped on the two of you, he stopped. He quickly removed his hands and pulled away. His breath was coming out in harsh pants. You held yours for a second then spoke.

"Jon? Uh, what's up? I mean… besides the obvious?" You giggled, reaching out a hand to touch the waistband of his underwear.

He stepped a little more out of reach, keeping you at arm's length. Obviously agitated, he ran a hand through his mussed hair and said, "I want this, y' know I do. But I want y' to be on th' same page as me. Y' dropped a fucking bombshell earlier and I don' wanna take advantage or nothin'."

"Aw, for fuck's sake Jon. Why the fuck are you being sweet now?" You grumbled. With that statement his face fell to a frown and he looked away from your gaze, his jaw clenched. You felt horrible, that didn't come out the way you intended. Attempting to assuage him you quickly said, "No! Fuck, Jon that's not what I meant. You know that. You're the fucking sweetest most amazing guy I've ever met. Like, ridiculously amazing." He glanced up through the fringe of his bangs and then dipped his head again, relaxing just a little with your words.

"You're so good at listening to my shit and letting me vent to you. You're the best thing to happen to me in… well, ever I guess. I just meant, why did you have to go and remember my shit when I was forgetting it." You smiled at him tenderly, moving closer to him in the water so that you could run your fingers down his arm to take his hand in yours. You tugged on his arm, making him look you in the eyes. "Look, all the stuff I've told you is part of me, like you said. I can't change that. But you're so fucking good at making me forget. When you kiss me it's like I'm the old me again. It's like you make me feel like I'm fucking whole again or some romance novel shit. I wasn't feeling any of the old crap just then, I just felt you. Only you. And I fucking want you, like really want you… only you," you ended quietly.

"Alicia…" He rasped out your name so softly. "Y' sayin' what I think y're sayin'?" Jon asked quietly.

"I'm saying I think we're not only on the same page, but the same fucking paragraph and word as well. Please, fucking do something to me, anything. I need you. I need you to be with me tonight. I want it all, everything you can give me and more," you begged, not caring about your dignity or the fact that the both of you were standing half naked in the shallow end of his pool.

Jon growled low in his throat and lifted you up again, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walked both of you through the water toward the steps out of the pool while he returned his lips to yours in a hot wet kiss. You groaned into his mouth again and let him take away any of the thoughts of yourself. Right now, you were just feeling. Feeling him touch your breasts through your shirt. Feeling him firmly hold you tight to him and grind into your core. Feeling his thumbs roll over your erect nipples. The feelings were overwhelming you. You scratched your nails down his back and he growled again in your neck.

When he got to the pool steps he shifted you to carry you bridal style and lifted you out like you weighed nothing more than a feather. He kept kissing and nipping at your neck while he walked with you in his arms over to the door. You closed your eyes, wrapped your arms around his neck and gave in to all that he was offering. You heard the door open and then close with a kick. He never stopped his assault on your lips, your face, your neck.

Both of you were dripping from the pool but neither of you noticed. The heat from his attention was enough to keep you warm no matter how cool the house seemed now. He didn't put you down, opting instead to carry you upstairs to his bedroom.

The room was dark, save a little light coming in from the open curtains on the window. The huge king size bed stood out against the lack of decorations on the walls. He gently laid you down on your back on the bed, crawling between your legs and up your body. His hands ran up your arms while he looked down into your face.

"Fuck me, cupcake, y'r so fuckin' beautiful like this. From th' moment I saw y' I wanted y' here, in my bed, under me." He groaned then and leaned down for another kiss. Your arms lifted of their own accord and wrapped tightly around his neck, holding him to you. His tongue entered your mouth again, dueling with yours. You moaned out in pleasure, only breaking the kiss when you couldn't breathe anymore. Your fingers scraped down his stubbled chin and neck, leaving marks from your fingernails.

He moved down your body, slowly rubbing his hands along your sides down to the edge of your shirt. He paused, looking up at you for confirmation.

"It's ok, I'm ok. I want this, Jon." You murmured softly.

He grazed his fingertips along the top of your underwear, hooking his fingers in and tugging them down your legs. You arched your hips so that he could pull them completely off. He groaned and dropped his head to your juncture, kissing your mound. His fingertips brushed back and forth at your opening, finding you wet and wanting. Licking the inside of your thigh he made his way back up to the edge of your shirt. He traced his fingers along your thigh, winding them up your sides under your drenched top. You shuddered at the sensations pooling in your core. You hadn't been touched like this in forever. He slowly lifted the hem of your shirt and you sat up slightly to aid him in the removal of the offending clothing item. Lifting your arms, you helped him remove it completely and he let it fall to the floor next to the bed. You lay back down, closing your eyes tight as you brought your hands to cover your biggest scar. You wanted this. You just didn't want to see the look on his face as he took in your body.

"Don't you fuckin' dare close y'r eyes right now. Look at me." Jon ordered harshly. "Alicia, fuckin' look at me," he said with a snarl as he pulled your hands away from your stomach and held them captive over your head. You dared to look in his eyes, afraid of what you would see. Hoping to see anything but pity or disgust.

But looking at him, you saw nothing but desire and heat in his gaze. He wanted you, all of you, despite everything. Holding your hands tight with one hand, he gently traced each scar with his other. His fingertips brushed over the small puckered scars on your side. After each brush he would lean down and kiss where his fingertips had been. He touched and kissed every scar on your stomach, the ones from the shrapnel and the ones from the spreaders. He saved the biggest scar for last, gently tracing it down from your sternum to where it ended just above your pubic bone. After tracing it he licked down it in one long stroke while you whimpered and writhed beneath him. Who knew scars could be so fucking erotic.

"Y're a fucking goddess. Don't forget that, never fuckin' forget that. Y're so fuckin' gorgeous laid out here like this for me. Trustin' me. I'll never hurt y', cupcake. Never." Jon whispered as he looked up at you from his position. "Y' gonna be a good girl f'r me now? Y' gonna keep y'r hands from hidin' this body from me?" He asked with a sexy growl.

"Yessss," you moaned out, "I'll be good, omygod please Jon, fucking… just touch me."


	28. Chapter 28

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Additional warning: some smutty times here again and talk about invisible assholes in the sky** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 28**

"Hands t' y'r sides, cupcake. No hidin' now. Let me see y', let me show y' jus' what y' do to me." He groaned out. He released his hold on you and your arms dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets. He continued his assault on your body, kissing, licking and biting. His hands roamed up and down your body, alternating between tender touches and firm, almost bruising grasps on your hips. The onslaught of sensation was almost too much for you to handle. You wanted more, you wanted everything. He focused on your stomach and sides, sucking marks down your abdomen. His tongue swirled around your bellybutton causing you to arch into him, craving his touch. Feeling his stubble scratch along your skin, you knew that when you showered next there would be evidence of his claim over you all over your body.

Heat tendrils were rising in your core. Moaning out his name, you moved your hips this way and that, trying to move his attention to where you wanted more of his touch. He finally dropped his hands down to your juncture. He slowly dipped one finger into your heat, groaning when he found you wet and wanting.

"Ah fuck, I have t' taste y' love. Open f'r me." He mumbled as he moved lower on your body. Your fingers itched to touch him all over, but you obeyed his orders and kept your arms splayed out to your sides. "Such a fuckin' good girl f'r me," Jon praised you in his gravelly voice, thick with desire. "So fuckin' willin' to let th' lunatic show y' how good y' really are."

You spread your legs wide open to give him access to your dripping arousal. Groaning, he lowered his head to gently lick up and down your slit. His tongue snaked out to enter you causing you to cry out in bliss. Your eyes blew open and you were sure that your pupils were dilated from the amount of pleasure he was bringing to your body.

"OMYGOD Jon! Oholyfuckingshit," you cried out as he tongue-fucked your core. His hands moved up and down your thighs, firmly holding you in place as if you would ever leave this bed. One hand moved over to your clit and he rubbed in circles with his thumb while his tongue devoured your center. Your arousal had reached its peak and you knew you were going to explode soon. Obscenities fell from your lips, forming swear words that had never been said before. You were thrashing on the bed, moaning his name and trying your best to keep ahold of the sheets instead of reaching down to grab his head. He could sense your release coming. He moved two fingers of his other hand inside you as his mouth moved to suck on your nub. He kept his thumb rubbing around it for pressure.

Even knowing that your orgasm was coming, the pure pleasure erupting from your body took you by surprise. The breath was knocked out of your chest and you arched back, feeling the assault of pure emotion fill your body. Your eyes closed, and stars exploded behind your eyelids while you gasped for breath. The proof of your release drenched his face and he moaned, reaching up a hand to wipe at the evidence of his work. He sat back and grinned at you in the night showing off his dimples. His tongue snaked out of his mouth and he licked where your arousal still coated his lips. You threw an arm over your eyes, sighing as you came down from the high of the best orgasm that you had ever received.

He moved to the edge of the bed and stood up to remove his underwear. You removed your arm to watch as his fingers hooked into the waistband and he lowered them to the floor. His arousal jutted out huge and proud from a nest of auburn curls. Craving him, you raised yourself on your elbows and licked your lips. He stood there watching you, not moving back to the bed just yet. He just kept a smirk on his face as he considered the picture of you and your body laid out there for his taking. You felt his gaze move up and down and you fought the desire to cover your stomach from his view. You watched him as he brought his hand to his length to stroke up and down a couple times. Saliva pooled in your mouth, wanting. Wanting to lick, wanting to touch, wanting to taste.

"Can I touch you now?" You asked timidly, suddenly shy from the effect this man had on you.

He tapped his finger on his chin, giving you a lecherous smile. "I don' know 'bout that, cupcake. Have y' been a good girl? Do y' deserve t'?" He asked slowly, as he walked back to where you were on the bed.

You giggled, "Yes, sir. I've been a good girl, sir. Following orders like a good little soldier should. Now get your fucking ass back to me so I can show you how good I can really be."

He barked out a laugh and reached down to yank your ankles. He pulled your legs causing you to move down to the edge of the bed. He dropped your legs so that your hips were at the edge and you sat back up again, reaching for him. He moved slowly toward you, allowing you to take in the whole man. Your hand reached out for his length and he let out a hissed breath. Your fingers ran up the side of him, tracing the veins on his enormous length. He felt like hot velvet in your grip. Your thumb slid over the tip of him, feeling a drop of precum. Swirling it with your thumb, you coated the top of his erection. You wanted to taste.

Bending down you slowly flicked out your tongue to caress the tip of his engorged member. He groaned at the touch. "Fuuuuuck," he moaned out in a breath. "Jus' like that. Suck me jus' fuckin' like my good fuckin' soldier girl should." His hands came down to hold your shoulders while you lavished attention on him.

You reached your hand to circle his dick while your mouth encompassed as much as it could hold. Your tongue swirled around him while you bobbed your head up and down. Palming his balls while you sucked up and down, you could feel him grow even more in your mouth. Precum was leaking in earnest now and you relished the salty taste of him. You dipped your head down as far as it would go, taking in even more as you moaned. He started to twitch his hips; one of his hands came up to cup the back of your neck and push you even further onto him. You hummed your approval at the little show of force. You began slurping up and down his length in earnest, sucking and swirling your tongue under the head of his tip.

His pace had increased as you put everything you had into bringing him the same pleasure he had given you. He snaked his hand in your hair and pulled back, surprising you. You released him with a lewd pop, leaning back to look up at him. His bright blue eyes had turned almost completely black from desire.

"Up on th' fuckin bed, now." He growled out, leaving you no choice to follow his order. You smiled, knowing it was you and you alone that had brought this man to this point. Crawling back, you stretched your arms above your head and canted one leg to the side, giving him access to the whole of you. He climbed back on the bed, covering you with his body. He claimed your mouth again, slipping his tongue inside to taste you once again. You could taste yourself on him, like you knew he could taste himself on you. The arousal in your stomach rose again at the filth of the situation.

He spanked your thigh, causing you to open wider for him. He lowered himself to kiss your neck and lick your collar bone. "Y' want me t' grab somethin'?" He rasped out, his head at your entrance. You furrowed your brow, confused for a second at what he was asking of you. Oh, something like protection. "Y' don' have t' worry 'bout me. Get tested regular 'n 'm clean, but 'sup t' you."

"I'm clean and we definitely don't have to worry about consequences," you chuckled ruefully. "I just want to feel you. I want to feel all of you, with nothing in-between us." You said as you wound your fingers through his hair and tugged slightly.

He moaned and thrust deep inside you. Your back arched off the bed at the pleasure and slight pain from not having been invaded like this in so long. He paused inside you, letting you get used to the sheer size of him. Your muscles clenched around him and he let out a long shaky breath. You wriggled your hips, attempting to adjust to the invasion. He stayed still through your movements as long as he could, letting you find your comfort.

"Gotta fuckin' move, love, y' don' know how much 've gotta fuckin' move right now." He grunted in a strained voice.

"Fuck me, Jon. Fuck me with everything you've got. I want everything. I want you to destroy me," you sighed into the night.

"Aaaah fuck, darlin'," he cried out as he began to move in earnest. You soon matched his rhythm, your pants getting shallower and shallower. Desperately you clawed your hands down his back and grabbed at his ass, urging him to move faster inside you. "Don't fucking stop, Jon. Don't ever fucking stop," you cried out. He ground his body down on yours causing your walls to clench around him. His powerful thrusts were causing you to whimper and writhe in pleasure. Thrashing your head back and forth, you couldn't stop the flow of pleasure coming through your body again. He reached a hand in between where you were joined together, brushing his thumb back and forth across your clit. His name fell from your lips as you came around him, shuddering with your release. Spurred by your walls clenching around him, he grunted and sped up his thrusts. He tossed his head back and yelled out your name as he spilled deep inside you.

Falling forward onto your body, he tucked his head into your neck. "'Licia," he mumbled. "I think I might need t' keep y' after tonight." He kissed your jaw and rolled off of you. You giggled at the thought and turned to face him.

"After tonight, I might just let you." You said softly as you smiled into his face and leaned over to brush your lips over his. This man was so fucking good for you. He pulled the sheet up to cover both of you, neither of you needing a comforter with the warmth of each other. A peace you hadn't felt in years fell over you and you curled into his body.

He pulled you tight into him, running his hands up and down your side. "Thank y' for that, cupcake. Told y' that y' were fuckin' beautiful, didn' I?" His fingers started to trace the Korean tattoo down your ribcage. "I fuckin' love the artwork on y'r body. I love the designs." He kept tracing each word on your side. "Wha's this mean?" He asked softly.

"Hmm?" You asked as you snuggled deeper into his hold. "It's just a phrase I got after my first deployment to help me remember. I got that one and my back done before I went back over there."

"Yeah, but wha's it mean? Has t' mean somethin' otherwise y' wouldn't have put it on there." His voice was a deep rumble in your ear.

"Would you believe me if I told you it said, 'You will give yourself over to the first WWE wrestler you meet but he will annoy you to no end after you've just had the most mind-blowing sex ever'?" You chuckled.

He snorted and said, "Uh, not so much, but I guess 's good thing I found y' first." He brushed a kiss over your eyebrow. "Y' avoidin' telling me cuz y' don' wanna? Y' still got y'r secrets 'n tha's ok by me if y' wanna keep 'em."

You groaned, "No, just trying to enjoy my post orgasmic haze and you're hitting me with twenty fucking questions again," you said lightly punching his arm. "I don't mind telling you what any of my tattoos mean. It means 'Your hardest times often lead to the greatest moments of your life'. My mom helped me with the wording since she grew up in Korea and could make sure that the words didn't spell out 'I like to lick out garbage cans' or some shit like that."

He huffed out a laugh, warming your neck with his breath. "Wait, y'r mom's Korean?" He asked after a second.

"Nah," you yawned, "she just lived over there for the first 17 years of her life. Her parents were super fucking God-fearing folk who wanted to spread the good word by being missionaries. They had seven fucking kids but didn't care enough to raise them in a good loving home. Instead, they sent them out to boarding schools so that they could continue to try to bring people to some invisible asshole in the sky who is in charge of who lives and fucking dies."

He chuckled at that, "Yeah, I understand. Never figured why people wouldn' take care of their families, instead goin' off t' do some other shit. Y' know my story wit' my mom 'n sperm donor. Never made sense t' have kids if y're jus' gonna ignore 'em 'n fuck off in some other direction."

"Thanks for understanding me, Jon. And thank you for tonight. You have no idea how much you've changed me over the past few days. I feel so much freer. Feel so much better," you mumbled, exhaustion drifting over your body. Your eyelids grew heavy as you tried to stay awake to continue the conversation.

Jon noticed the change in your demeanor and leaned in for one more small kiss. "Sleep now, cupcake. Tomorrow's a big day. We'll go 'splorin. 'S gonna be fun, but y'll need all y'r energy."

"'Night babes," you whispered, not realizing that it was the first time you had called him anything other than his name. You drifted off with a smile, thinking of tonight, thinking of the man holding you tight. Sleep claimed you before you heard his reply.


	29. Chapter 29

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **** _ **Warnings for this one**_ **: fluff – not sorry – and then of course some horrible war shit that really happened once upon a time. Proceed with caution** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 29**

The sunlight poured through the curtains in Jon's room, slowly waking you from the best sleep you had had in your life. Looking over to his side of the bed, you noticed the empty space there. Figuring he had woken early to get his regular workout in, you slowly stretched your sore legs and sat up. Looking around the room you realized that the bags had been left downstairs by the door. In both of your rush to get upstairs last night neither of you had remembered to bring your clothes up.

You looked around the room seeing a dresser in the corner. Well, the man had seen all of you, so you might as well let him see you in something of his. The top drawer held nothing but socks and underwear, but the next drawer was filled with what you assumed were his old merchandise shirts. Grabbing a black shirt that sported an 'Explicit Mox Violence' logo, you pulled it over your head. You didn't understand the reference, but the shirt was soft and comfortable against your skin. It was so huge that it fell to just above your knees. Your hair tie had come out sometime last night and you didn't feel like looking for it now, opting instead to leave it flowing down your back. Looking down at the floor, you noticed the discarded underwear from last night. Choosing to not put them back on, you ventured out of his room and padded softly down the stairs to see what you could rustle up for breakfast. Your stomach was growling after the workout you had both had last night.

Barefoot, you made your way toward the kitchen, hearing Jon's voice talking to someone. Not wanting to intrude you stayed outside the door and out of sight. You weren't intentionally listening in, at least that's what you reminded yourself as you listened to him talk. "Nah, brother, no worries. Like I told y', we're doin' fine. She's a fuckin' trooper." He cackled at his own joke. "She didn' let th' shitty ass Divas get t' her. I fuckin' swear man, she's somethin' else. Like no one 've fuckin' ever been with. Y've not even heard half the shit she's gone through 'n she's still jus', well she's fuckin' amazin'." He paused for a second, allowing the person on the other end reply. By the use of 'brother' you knew it was either Joe or Colby on the phone. You would probably guess Joe, since he was the one who tended to worry more about how Jon was doing at all times.

"I know, uce, I fuckin' know that. Y' think I don' know that she's gotta go back? I fuckin' hate it 'n I can't help thinkin' 'bout it when I look at her. I didn' think it would be like this, y' know? It jus' started as a fuckin' ride in the middle of nowhere. Now I don' know if I can let her go when she has t' leave." He paused again, listening to the phone. "Nah, she's sleepin' upstairs still. We didn' get t' bed 'till late." He chuckled. "Fuck you, Joe, 'm not sayin' nothin' else. Cuz 'm a fuckin' gentlemen, tha's why." Joe must have asked something else because he replied, "Don' know yet, I mean, yeah sure, but 's never felt like tha' before." He said after a second. You heard him sigh before he continued a little more quietly, "'S fuckin' th' best 'n th' worst fuckin' feelin' in th' world."

You were beginning to feel a little guilty about standing there, and more and more like an eavesdropper. This wasn't your business, even if he was talking about you. It was a private conversation that he didn't invite you to. You retreated up the steps and coughed loudly to announce your presence. Stepping louder than before you made your way back down the stairs toward the kitchen. When you entered you saw Jon standing there, still on the phone, facing toward the windows and away from you. He was dressed only in cargo shorts that hung low on his hips. Your mouth watered involuntarily at the sight of his muscular back. You coughed again to alert him of your presence.

He turned to look at you and he immediately stopped talking. His mouth fell open. His grip on the phone loosened and it fell to the floor with a thump. You could hear Joe yelling out his name from the speaker asking if everything was ok. Smiling at Jon, you walked over and leaned down to pick up the phone. Holding it out, you gave it back to him.

Jon cleared his throat a couple times, placing the phone back up to his ear. "Huh, wha? Yeah, 'm fine," he rasped out hoarsely. He cleared his throat again and said, "Y' know what, Joe. 'M gonna have t' let y' go. Uh, somethin's come up." He paused a second then grumbled out, "Fuck you brother. I'ma fuckin' kick y'r ass." He sighed, "'N thanks. Talk t' y' soon." With that he hung up the phone and placed it on the counter.

You looked at him curiously, "You ok there, babes?" The pet name rolling off your lips without a thought. "You look like you might need a chair, or a drink of water or something. You know I'm a medic; I can help," you giggled.

He looked you over with the interest of someone who wanted to wreck every bit of you. With a low growl he asked, pointing to your attire, "Jus' where the fuck y' get that, cupcake?"

You looked down at the shirt, feeling immediately like you had just invaded his privacy again. "Um, I didn't think you'd mind. My bags were downstairs and with all the windows I didn't feel quite like walking around naked in your house." You fiddled with the bottom of the shirt, trying not to shrink into yourself.

"Mind? Fuck me, Alicia, I don' mind. Wha's mine is y'rs while y're here. 'N believe me when I say that y're a fuckin' dream in that shirt. Wish I coulda known y' when I was Mox. Y' might have enjoyed him." He said with a leer.

Glancing up at his face, you smiled. "I'm pretty happy with the man I know now. Not sure I could handle more than one of you," you chuckled.

He reached out to grab ahold of you and yanked you to him. Tilting up your face you accepted his good morning kiss. You moaned into his mouth just as your stomach began to growl in earnest.

He pulled back and looked down at you, "Mmm, gotta get y' fed. I ran t' the store this mornin' while y' were still out. Joe told me wha' y'd probably need, so I got some eggs 'n shit so we could make breakfast. Then," he giggled like a schoolboy, "we c'n get on th' way t' fun." He grinned, dimples popping out while he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. Reaching behind you he opened a drawer and pulled out his famed 'kiss the cook' apron and handed it to you. "'Kay my darlin' cupcake, show me wha' y' can do in a kitchen," he chuckled while he smacked your ass.

Giving him a small glare, you accepted the apron and put it over your head, turning so he could tie it for you. He turned you around when he was done and kissed your nose. "Jus' followin' th' orders on th' apron, cupcake," he laughed. You rolled your eyes and opened the fridge to peruse the ingredients he had gotten. Thankfully, Joe seemed to know what he was talking about and you had everything you needed to whip up some decent omelets. You handed the ingredients one at a time to Jon who placed them on the counter near the cooktop. Telling him what you needed, he walked around the kitchen, getting pans, whisks, a cutting board, knives and a large bowl.

Turning to start cooking, you felt the calm of the process flow over you. Feeling in your element, you tuned out the noise in your head from the phone conversation, from last the past week's breakdowns, from everything that had happened. You worked on autopilot, allowing muscle memory to guide you through chopping and seasoning.

Jon didn't say much while you were cooking, instead opting to watch you as you worked. He stood close by as you finished up breakfast. You knew he would help if you asked, but you didn't really want it. You were enjoying this way too much. Every once in a while, he would move your hair to the side and kiss your neck proclaiming that the apron made him do it. The whole scene felt so fucking domestic. It felt so fucking right. The omelets were finished in record time and Jon provided the plates so that you could take them over to sit in the kitchen nook.

While you ate, you asked him about the day's plans, but he refused to tell you. Even with the threat of no kisses for the whole day, he wouldn't budge. He devoured his breakfast and sat there with a grin, "A-fuckin'-mazin' breakfast there, cupcake. Seems like 'm gonna have t' keep y' around for more than jus' a late night swimmin' partner 'n co-sleeper."

You snorted and finished off your breakfast. You both rose from the table and took the dishes to sink. He placed his hand at the small of your back and led you back to the stairs. Remembering to grab your bags, he allowed you to lead up the stairs and back to the room to get ready for the day.

Jon dropped your bags near the end of the bed and took a seat. You took off his shirt before you began rifling through them to find an appropriate outfit. You looked over your shoulder at him to ask what you should wear, but he seemed engrossed with just watching you.

"What are you looking at over there, Mr. Good? You've already seen it all, shouldn't be a surprise at this point," you said.

"'M lookin' at y'r back, love. Just appreciatin' the view 'n the artwork that is y'r body," he replied slowly. "Why'd y' choose that for y'r back? 'Ve never seen anythin' like it."

"Ah, well, that's because I made it up from my memories and a reminder to keep going. It's like it's my own personal warrior going through hell to battle for me whenever I need. And fairy wings cus… well I mean, come on. They're gorgeous on anyone." You winked at him.

"Y'r memories? Like bad ones from Iraq?" He asked you softly.

"Erm, yeah." You turned to face him, not happy about the fact that you didn't have any clothes on to fiddle with, but you figured you were already in for a penny and a pound. This man knew way more about you than anyone else in the fucking world at this point. Why start keeping things back now. You walked over to where he stood and sat next to him on the bed, glad to be able to fiddle with the sheets between your fingers.

"Remember how I told you that they change all the stories that happen over there so that people here get different news?" You asked. He nodded and reached out to run a finger down your cheek while you spoke. You leaned into his touch, relishing the feel of his warmth and comfort.

"I was on my first deployment. We were in the middle of Iraq on a really tiny forward operating base. I worked as an evac medic. That just meant that while we were having mas-cals I would transport all the wounded from the gate to the hospital. Then when they were patched up enough for long range transport, I would take them to the helipad.

"It had been a slow couple of weeks for all of the units that were stationed there with us. An armory unit was scheduled for a dry fire exercise to ensure they were ready in the event of an attack." You sighed, "apparently the notes got changed, or the orders were crossed. In any event, something happened, and they didn't use empty shells when they performed the exercise. The fuckers had aimed at a small town to practice. They used a mosque as a target. Their aim was true and in the middle of the fucking evening they shot off live fucking shells into the town. It hit just after prayers. A small coffee shop next door was filled with the wives and children of the men who were in the mosque praying. Everything started to burn."

You paused for a minute, hating the memories that were rushing back into your head. You could still see the faces. You could still see the red glow of the town on fire as the sun set, and darkness fell. Swallowing, you continued, "Our unit got the news that the town's hospitals were overrun. They needed help and were bringing casualties our way. We got to the gate for the injured as quickly as we could. There were so many fucking kids, Jon, so many kids. So much screaming. A woman had her jaw blown off but she was awake enough to keep her baby in her arms. She wouldn't let go, even when they needed to take her in to fix her for flight. I was on a rotation switch from getting the ones from the gate, so as I waited for patients to finish up and be ready for evacuation I had a few minutes of free time. They didn't know what to do with the baby when she was being treated so I took him. He was so innocent, only about nine months old. Wrapped in his little infant clothes, dirty from the blast and covered in his mother's blood, I just held him. His mother was stabilized, and we loaded her into my ambulance. Three other men were loaded with her, all extremely bad cases. I rode in the back to maintain the CPR on one of the victims and to also ensure that the baby was fine. During the trip to the helipad, and we're talking like a two-minute drive, the guy died on me. I couldn't feel a pulse anywhere. I didn't keep him alive even long enough to get him to better treatment." Tears were burning behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Swallowing again, you continued.

"We loaded the three who had survived the trip, not wanting to waste a space on a dead body. He was moved to the side of the helipad to be evacuated to a morgue later. As the night went on, we treated 44 men, women and children in less than two hours. I didn't care to listen to how proud everyone was, though, at the after-action review. I don't even remember how many died. On our last trip to the helipad, we went to load the man who died on me and discovered that he was breathing. I'm telling you, Jon, he died. There were no signs of life at all. Another medic even checked it out. But here he was, spontaneously breathing… coming back to life.

"The armor unit passed the whole thing off as an attack on the town from the outside so that they could look a hero. I only knew what happened because I happened to be around a couple generals who were smoking outside. I even bummed a cigarette off one of them without knowing what rank they were." Exhaling a shaky breath, you looked over and decided that there was nothing else you needed to hold back from this man. "When I got home from the war the first time I couldn't get these images out of my head. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that this 'war' we were fighting was so fuzzy. There were no good or bad guys. There wasn't even a purpose. It got to me." Gazing deeply into his blue eyes, you took hold of his hands. "Understand me, there is no way I would ever take my own life now. No fucking way. But back then, understand all of that got to me. Reliving those memories every day, seeing that baby's face covered in blood every night when I closed my eyes. I couldn't deal with it. I sat in my bathtub one night with a razor, running the dull part over all of the important arteries I would need to cut to stop the pain." Jon's sharp intake of breath was the only tell of how this was affecting him. "I'm not sure why I never went through with it, maybe I wasn't strong enough. Maybe I got strong. The next day I asked for help and started a long road of therapists and talking sessions. I understand why Marcie did it, I understand why they all did it." You leaned your head against his chest as he brought his hand around your waist. You sighed again, "Anyway, when I had enough saved up for my entire back to be done I met up with an artist and described the town. That's why it's on fire in the background. I think somewhere there's a guardian warrior who was looking out for me and that's why I chose to make him that way."

Jon pulled you fully into his lap and hugged you tight. "Goddamn Alicia, 'm so fuckin' glad you didn' do it. 'M so fuckin' glad y're here with me right now. Y're the…" He paused to find the right words. You felt bad for him, you understood that you had just dropped yet another major bombshell in his lap. "Y're fuckin' the best thing t' happen t' me. 'M so fuckin' glad y' have the strength y' have." He nuzzled your neck and you leaned back to give him access.

"I need to forget right now, Jon, help me." You said quietly.

With that he lifted you from the bed and walked you into the bathroom. He started the shower and stripped out of his cargo shorts, holding the door open for you to step in. The water sluiced over both your bodies as your lips met. He pushed you up to the wall and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your memories faded away as his touch became the only thing that occupied your mind.


	30. Chapter 30

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Fluffy good times here, and finally a semi-happy story about the military** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 30**

Sitting in the passenger side of Jon's truck you watched as the city turned into desert. Your legs bounced up and down in anxious excitement for the day's journey. He had placed a backpack in the bed of the truck, but he wouldn't let you peek inside or see anything else that he had done. After the shower he had finally told you that you needed to dress for a walk. Not having too many choices, you were dressed in jeans and your combat boots. Jon opted to give you another one of his old shirts to wear. He said that it was for comfort and that he didn't want you to get your clothes dirty, but you knew better. The man just wanted to see you in his clothes again. Smiling down at the D.A.R.E shirt, you had to chuckle again at the altered phrase underneath. You had tied the excess material to one side, the fashion making you feel just like you were back in high school. Deciding to run with the look, you pulled your hair up in pigtails. A bandanna he had loaned you was tied around your head for protection from the sun.

He had re-donned his cargo shorts from earlier and was dressed in a white shirt and Cincinnati Reds baseball cap. His sunglasses sat on his face, hiding his twinkling blue eyes from your gaze. His face held a permanent smile as he wove the truck through traffic and out to the middle of nowhere. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel in time with the country music coming from the radio.

"Are you planning on telling me where we're going any time soon?" You asked after a few minutes.

"Mmm, nope." He said with a chuckle.

You snickered at his choice of words. "Well will you at least tell me if you're going to take me out into the middle of nowhere and off me like some mob hit? No one even knows I'm out here with you; you could be taking me to my doom for all I know," you muttered with feigned dread. "If I'm going to die, I would like to plan my last words accordingly," you said grumpily.

"Y' know 'm not gonna kill y' 'n bury th' body out here. 'S too hot to dig 'n I didn' even pack a shovel. 'Sides, Joe 'n Colby know y're here with me. They'd skin me alive if anythin' happened t' y'. Seems like y're one of us now, cupcake." He looked over at you with a grin. "Told y' I'd keep y' safe, didn' I? Jus' trust me, this is worth it."

You huffed out a slightly annoyed breath. Used to being in charge from your years in the military, allowing someone else to take point was hard. You knew this man had only your best interests at heart, he had repeatedly showed you that. You had obviously trusted him with everything about you thus far, but even when you were with him the past couple days you always had a plan in the back of your head as to where the events would lead. You had always been in charge of what would happen to yourself. Here, you were at the mercy of this sexy, goofy man. Of course, you weren't really worried about dying in the desert. That was stupid. It was just that you weren't able to relax completely until you knew the plans. But this was what you were learning to accept, the ability to go with the flow. That's what this whole fucking adventure was about, wasn't it?

Deciding to accept the surprise for what it was, you smiled to yourself and watched the scenery unfold in front of you. The desert was beautiful. The sun shone brightly over the flat landscape, highlighting the tumbleweed and few plants that you could see. Soon the scenery changed to show jutting rocks and red cliffs. It was gorgeous.

Smiling you turned back to look at Jon, "This your playground, babes? This what you wanted to show me?"

He beamed back at you as he pulled the truck off the road to a random highway point. Stepping out, he walked around the back and grabbed out the backpack. You exited the cool cab of the vehicle and stepped out into the heat of the late morning sun. Breathing in a deep breath, you felt the stress of the world fall from your shoulders. Jon walked up to you and reached for your hand. "Come on, 's not too far 'n I made sure t' take an easy route f'r y'. Know y're not supposed t' walk too much."

The trail was a fairly easy one, like he had said. He shared a bottle of water with you as you walked leisurely up the incline to one of the jutting rock formations. You had no fear that your doctors wouldn't allow this; you were supposed to get good exercise to heal your body.

After a few minutes of pleasant silence Jon looked over and asked, "This ok? Y're not hurtin' are y'? Like, y'r leg's ok?"

"It's a little stiff from all the activity of the past couple days," you admitted with a sideways grin, rubbing your thigh a little. "But, this is so fucking worth it. You were right. This place is gorgeous. It's like you are alone in the universe." You turned to face him again, noting his approving grin. "Well, better than being alone, I guess, because you're here. It's definitely different from the ruck marches we used to go on," you chuckled softly.

"Yeah? What were those like?" He asked as he helped you climb over a small rock.

"Oh, there were so many that they all run together in my mind. Most of the actual long marches were in my training. Usually the unit would just load us up with as much gear as we could carry and then lead us on a miles long winding trek to nowhere. Those hikes hurt like a bitch. So many fucking blisters. The rucksack is not made for someone with hips, you know. Those things left bruises on me for fucking days." You suddenly burst out with laughter at the memory of one of your favorite ruck marches.

"Wha's so funny, cupcake?" Jon questioned.

"I was just remembering my very favorite ruck march of all time," you giggled. He waited for you to keep talking, keeping his hand in yours as you both continued to make your way to the top of the rock. "In basic training they woke us up late one day. That was fucking unheard of. Usually we woke up around three to clean the barracks room and be ready for inspection at 4:45. But this time, they told us we got to sleep in! Oh my god, I remember how wonderful that sensation was. After 15 weeks of having only four hours of sleep a night, sleeping for seven straight hours was heaven. They let us skip working out in the morning and instead we worked on cleaning our weapons and properly packing for our ruck march that day. The drill sergeants were almost friendly, even. They didn't yell as much. No one got smoked – er, punished – for stupid reasons. Looking back, I should have realized that something was off, but the treatment was just so nice we didn't think about it."

You chuckled ruefully, "Those fuckers sure knew what was coming alright. Lunch was another clue that we didn't pick up on. Usually we were only allowed one pass through the chow line, and only seven minutes to eat everything on our tray. We weren't allowed to talk. We had to sit in silence, move when told and follow orders to the letter. This day, however, something was super off. They served chili-mac, for one, instead of giving us choices of different proteins. And they wanted us to go for seconds. We were even allowed to talk and take as much time as we needed to eat. After lunch, they marched us for three hours to what looked like an abandoned building. It fucking looked like some World War II shit; bars on the windows and a huge metal door. I'm not going to lie, it kinda made me a scared." You paused as Jon hopped over another obstacle. He turned and put his hands around your waist and lifted you over with ease.

"This another hard story t' tell, Alicia?" Jon asked as he leaned his forehead down to touch yours. "Not that I won' listen t' anything y' wanna talk about, but I want y' t' be happy with me out here."

You laughed outright, "Oh fuck no, babes. This one is not hard to tell at all. I said it was my favorite ruck march of all time, didn't I?" He smiled at your answer and nodded, probably grateful that this wasn't another horrible story of war.

"Might be a little, erm, gross though now that I think of it," you said, ducking your head. "The drill sergeants lined us up in front of the doorway to the brick building and told us to drop all of our gear. The relief of losing all that weight was wonderful. Only after we were beginning to relax did they say to remove our gas masks from our packs. We went through the motions of putting them on, clearing them and taking them back off. Still, we hadn't a fucking clue as to the real intentions behind the whole thing. As we were marched inside the building with our weapons and our gas masks, we were told to don them inside. A canister stood in the middle of the room and one of the sergeants stood next to it, also wearing his gas mask. He instructed us that he was going to put tear gas in the canister and we were to keep our masks on. Then, he said, as we were approached by our drill sergeants we were to remove the mask, say our name, rank and serial number and re-don the mask. Oh, the fucking burning sensation was horrible. My eyes cried harder than I had ever had them cry. My nose ran, and I just wanted out of there. Saying my name, rank and serial number under the influence of the gas, I quickly put my mask back on and cleared it. As soon as everyone in our group was done, we were allowed to file out of the gas filled building into a recovery area. They told us to take the masks off and not touch our faces. Breathing in and out deep breaths, we were instructed to flap our arms and walk in a circle."

You giggled again, "Luckily, unlike everyone else I hadn't eaten too much that day. I don't like to eat a ton before I exercise, never had the stomach for it. Others, however had eaten seconds and even thirds. As I recovered fully, I was allowed to sit to the side and watch the later groups endure the same abuse. So many of them couldn't keep their lunches down. It was hilariously disgusting. I watched these trainees flapping like fucking birds while snot and tears poured out of their faces. They would lean over and puke while walking in a circle." You shot a look at his face and he was smirking at the story. "I'm telling you it was fucking hilarious, looking back now. Of course, that day it probably wasn't too fun. But, we all went through it, so it's just one of those things that bands us all together. Every soldier has to deal with the gas chamber."

"Tha' sounds like tha' Band of Brother's shit." Jon cackled.

"Yeah, it was," you smiled. "It really was."

Your story had lasted the rest of the hike up and you found yourself at the top of the rock with Jon. Looking around from the peak you absorbed the scenery and the feel of the sunlight on your face. He was right, this was perfect. This was a perfect place to come to get away from the world.

Jon opened the backpack and reached in for what you assumed was more water. Instead, he removed a couple of sandwiches and some other treats for lunch. Shooting him a grin, you came over to investigate. "Did Joe help with this food too?" You snickered as you looked over the spread.

"Nah," He chuckled. "'S all my doin' this time." He paused and looked over the landscape. "This 's where I come t' leave th' world behind," he rasped out softly, handing you a sandwich and motioning for you to sit down next to him. "This is why I love it here."

You sat next to him and leaned your head against his shoulder. Munching on your sandwich, you watched as the sun moved in the sky and the breeze moved the tumbleweeds across the desert. It was so fucking beautiful here, so fucking relaxing.

"Tol' y' I wasn't gonna kill y'," he whispered, turning to kiss your forehead. You laughed quietly and relaxed to enjoy the moment. He took out his phone and turned on the camera. Reaching his arm away from the both of you, he snapped a picture to capture the memory. You smiled at the picture of the two of you with the desert scenery in the background, happy that you were here together in his special place.

The walk down was a little easier on your body, but you could tell that you would pay for the amount of movement later. A renewed sex life had definitely gotten muscle groups moving that you weren't used to anymore. The amount of travel over the past couple days and walking had also begun to take its toll on your hips. They ached as you moved gingerly down the trail. Jon noticed the change from the walk up. As you headed down, trying to avoid climbing over any large rocks, you felt a pain in your side. Reaching to massage your scars, you stopped to take a couple of deep breaths.

"Y' ok?" Jon asked, waiting with you and rubbing your upper back. You hunched over a little, trying to ease the pain. Fuck this. Healing pain hurt, but it meant that you were alive, and you were getting better. "Yeah," you said, "just a twinge from my scars. This was perfect, though. I'm so happy you brought me out here." He helped you as much as he could on the way back down the trail, lifting you over the obstacles and taking it very slow. You sighed happily through your pain, this man was so fucking amazing.

Back in the truck, the cool air-conditioning was a relief and the comfortable seats eased the pain in your joints. You leaned your head back against the head rest and closed your eyes. The pain was worth it.

As the truck wound its way back to the city limits you looked over to Jon. His face was relaxed, and you enjoyed the companionable silence.

"What am I making you for dinner tonight, Mr. Good?" You asked after a while.

He looked over to you with a mysterious grin, "Well, thought y' might wanna take a break from cookin' f'r me 'n go out on th' town. Let me take care of y' tonight. Which reminds me, y' have anythin' in those bags tha' would be ok in a nice restaurant?"

You considered your clothing options, "Uh, I guess that depends on how nice we're talking here. Like nicer than the places we've been so far? Probably not."

He beamed at you, "Was hopin' y'd say that. Might have gotten somethin' f'r y' t' wear."

You looked over at him, a little shocked. "How the fuck did you do that? And when? Also, not to be rude or anything, but how do you even know that it will fit?"

He cackled at that, "Y're talkin' t' the titty master here, cupcake. If there's one thing I know it's y'r body by now. I had a little help wit' it from Galina, Joe's girl. She tol' me where t' get the stuff, but I wanted t' surprise y'. 'N I might have cheated by lookin' at some of the sizes in y'r bags and y'r boots while y' were sleepin'."

Blushing, you looked down at your lap. "Uh, the what master? Titty master? Are you being serious right now?"

Dimples flashing, he gave you his best lecherous smirk, "Yup, tha's me. Know my stuff. 'N I didn' want y' t' hide that body tonight. Might have ordered somethin' this mornin' that should be there when we get back. Hope y' like it," he ended with a genuine smile.


	31. Chapter 31

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. Proceed with caution **Fluff cus I want to :)** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 31**

When you finally returned to the house, sure enough there were a couple packages waiting on his doorstep. Eagerly, he grabbed them and opened the door to let you enter. You were enjoying the surprises so far, and you had an inkling that this was going to be a night to remember forever.

The afternoon sun was streaming through his windows. You looked over to where he was standing there, holding your presents for the night.

"Are you going to let me see, or what?" You asked, finally.

"Think I'm gonna save it for right before we go. Y' wanna just relax f'r a while? We can pop on a movie 'n chill. Or," he looked at you with heat in his gaze, "we could jus' entertain ourselves f'r a while."

Giving him a grin, you replied, "I think you wore me out for a while this morning, you mind if we just chill and watch something? What do you have?"

He showed you his extensive DVD collection and you were intrigued by the ones of his old wrestling days. "This is you?" You asked in awe, picking out a DVD that said 'CZW Explicitly Moxley: The Very Best of Jon Moxley'. He glanced over at your pick and chuckled, "'S me in all my glory, cupcake. Those were th' hardcore days wit' my friend Sami in CZW. Wha' I do now in th' ring is nothin' like wha' I did back then."

You turned over the DVD and read the back, "Switchblade Conspiracy vs. Brain Damage and Drake Younger… Jon Moxley vs. Danny Havoc vs. DJ Hyde vs. Thumbtack Jack… Fans Bring the Weapons: Jon Moxley & The H8 Club vs. DJ Hyde, xOMGx & Scotty Vortekz." You paused and looked back up at him, "What the fuck did you used to do? Fans bring the weapons? Jesus, that sounds horrible."

He barked out a laugh, "Did wha' I had t'. Wasn't that bad. Wanted t' make it t' the big leagues, 'n y' have t' earn y'r stripes in the wrestling world. Should see some of th' drunk matches I did, or th' dog collar ones." He walked over to you and patted your shoulder, "I survived, didn' I? 'Sides, y've been through much worse than I ever did takin' a fork t' the leg or a coupl'a light tubes 'cross th' back. Y' wanna watch a couple?" He asked tentatively, as if he was worried you wouldn't accept this part of his past.

You smiled in earnest, "Are you kidding? Put it on, babes, I want to see you in all your wrestling glory from the olden days." You glanced down at the dates that accompanied the fight titles, "I was deployed for all of these. Wish I could have been there to see them in person, seems like an interesting time."

He popped the DVD in the player and you both snuggled down into the couch. The first match began, and you were immediately enthralled by the old alter ego of the man currently holding you. Every so often he would chuckle at something and explain about his opponent. He told you about the Switchblade Conspiracy and his good friend, mentioning that Sami was trying to make it work because he too got called up to the WWE. "He's tryin' t' enjoy it, but it jus' doesn't fit him th' same as me. I hope he c'n make it work, but if it doesn't then I'll still support him. He's still my partner, I love him, y' know."

You patted his leg and curled further into his hold. "Yeah, I understand that." The match changed to one where Jon was fighting someone named Thumbtack Jack. After a few minutes you realized just where the guy got his name. Geez, these guys were fucking hardcore.

The DVD continued to play, and the afternoon passed quickly with both of you enjoying the old days of Jon's wrestling career. The sun set as you relaxed on his couch. He looked over at the clock and stretched to stand. "'S time we started t' get ready, cupcake. We've got a special dinner t' get to."

He walked over to the counter and took the packages. Handing them to you with excitement, he gave you a little push towards the stairs. "Y' c'n use my room t' get ready. I'll use th' guest room. Meet me down here when y're done, 'kay?"

You looked down at the gifts in your hand, wondering what sort of style someone who proclaimed to be the 'titty master' had. Grinning in anticipation, you climbed the stairs to see. In the room you opened the first box, knowing it was shoes based on the Christian Louboutin logo. Inside your eyes fell on a pair of the most beautiful shoes you had ever seen. The simple black pumps had a small bow at the tip and an open peep toe.

Giddy, you quickly opened the second box to see what else this wonderful man had gotten for the night. As you folded back the tissue paper in the Neiman Marcus box your breath caught. You lifted the most gorgeous black halter dress out and held it up for inspection. The tag said Giorgio Armani. The collar was the softest leather and, as you turned it in your hand, you noticed the back had three leather straps that flowed down to a leather corset, allowing for almost your whole back tattoo to be seen. The skirt came just above your knee, hiding any evidence of bruises that hadn't faded over the past few days. You couldn't wait to get this outfit on and show it off to the man who picked it for you. It was exactly what you would have wanted to wear if you had all the money in the world to spend on clothes.

As you lifted out the dress from the box, your eye landed on one final black paper bag. Curious, you lifted it, wondering what else he could have possibly gotten you. You gasped as you reached inside and pulled out a delicate black La Perla thong. Holy shit, he wasn't kidding about setting you up with an outfit for a fancy night on the town. The whole thing must have cost almost what you made in a fucking month. It kind of made you feel like the hooker in Pretty Woman, except for the accepting money for sex to avoid a drugged-out roommate thing.

After showering quickly, you fixed your hair high on your head. You took care in changing into the beautiful outfit. He didn't lie. The dress fit like a dream. And, even though they were high heels that you weren't used to, they were some of the most comfortable shoes your feet had ever touched. Finishing your make up, you walked out to find your man.

Jon was sitting downstairs in the living room, fiddling with a little gray box while his leg twitched nervously. He was dressed in black slacks and a light blue collared shirt. His tie was a darker shade of navy, accentuating the outfit and making his eyes sparkle even bluer. He had slicked back his hair and placed his black suit jacket over the back of the couch. As you walked up to him he stopped all movement and stood. His hand gripped the box harder and you noticed him swallow a couple of times.

"You were right, titty master, you do know your stuff," you snickered softly.

He stared at you for a minute before replying quietly, "Y're fuckin' beautiful, cupcake. Y've always been beautiful, but this is like th' pretty frostin' on a delicious cake." He moved toward you and shifted the box in his hand a little. You looked at him curiously, wondering what else this man had gotten for you. You already were decked out to the nines, you figured that was it for the outfit. He looked down nervously then extended the box for you to take.

"What is this?" You asked.

"Jus' somethin' t' remember this evenin' by. Open it." He rasped out.

You opened the box to see a black velvet choker. In the center was a tiny silver cupcake charm. You gasped as you took it out and inspected the intricate design. Looking up into his eyes you said, "It's beautiful. All of this is. I'm not sure what I did to deserve you but thank you for everything." Looking back down at the necklace you whispered, "Thank you for this."

He took the velvet ribbon from your hand and walked around to your back so that he could tie it for you. When he was done, he leaned down and kissed your shoulder. "Y' ready? Th' car should be here in a sec."

Turning to smile at him you raised your arms up to his shoulders. Lifting up on your toes, you gently kissed his lips. "I'm ready, let's go enjoy my surprise."

The car drove down the Vegas strip slowly, as that was as fast the pace of the traffic would allow. You gazed out in wonder at the lights of all the casinos. You had never seen anything like this. Grinning with excitement, you turned to Jon and grabbed his hand. "This is amazing! I've never seen so many lights. I mean, yeah, I grew up near a big city, but nothing like this," you said in awe.

Soon, the car pulled up in front of the Bellagio Casino and stopped to let you both out. He wrapped his arm around your waist and walked you through the casino entryway. A huge Dale Chihuly glass sculpture hung from the ceiling and you marveled at the gorgeous colors. Jon led you through the casino to the entryway of Le Cirque restaurant. You looked over at him in surprise.

"You brought me to Le Cirque? That's, like, the best French restaurant in Vegas. Oh," you said quietly, "wow. This is incredible. I've never had the chance to eat food like this, even when I was in culinary school."

"Y' happy with my choice?" He asked, bending down to whisper in your ear.

You hugged him tight, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."

The dinner was one of the most amazing experiences you had ever had at a restaurant. The waiters would bring out each course, and each one was a surprise and delight. Everything was so animated. The food would transform in front of your eyes and excite all of your senses. Jon watched with pleasure as the emotions played over your face while you ate. Delight, enjoyment, amusement at the food transformations, glee at each new course that was placed before you. Although it was a five-course menu, the chef sent out small courses in between to cleanse your palates. Jon ordered wine with the dinner for the both of you, to accompany each course. You hadn't eaten like this… well ever.

Throughout the meal your conversation covered light topics. Neither of you felt like getting into anything serious, instead choosing to enjoy the evening for what it was. By your third glass of wine, you were feeling a little giddy from the effects of the alcohol. You knew you shouldn't be drinking so much with your medication, but with such a special night you just went with the flow. It felt so good to let go.

As dinner wound to an end, you smiled at Jon and reached for his hand, "This was so wonderful. The whole fucking day was more than I ever thought I would get to enjoy. You are amazing. Like I said, thank you."

He leaned over and brushed his lips against yours. "Y're worth it. Y're worth all of this 'n more."

Leaving the casino, you looked around for the black car in which you had arrived. It was nowhere to be found, but that didn't seem to faze Jon. He interlaced his fingers through yours and led you down the sidewalk to the fountains. There were dozens of people standing there, waiting for the light show.

Jon held onto your waist as you leaned into his shoulder. He mumbled quietly, "Know this is tourist shit, but I thought y' might wanna see it tonight."

"I don't care if this is tourist shit, I think this has to be the most perfect ending to a perfect day, to be honest," you murmured as the light show began. The effects of the day were catching up to your body. Your stomach scars were sore, and your legs ached from the hike. As you stood here, though, watching the fountain show, all the pain faded.

Jon took out his phone after a few minutes standing there and called the driver to come pick you up. You passed the car ride in silence, happy to just enjoy the man next to you, snuggled in his embrace.

Back at the house Jon guided you in through the door and immediately pushed you up against the wall to plunder your mouth. "'Ve been waitin' all night f'r this," he rasped. "Y' fuckin' look like th' most beautiful thing 've ever seen tonight. Wanna strip all those pretty clothes off y'r body 'n jus' leave th' cupcake. Want y' t' ride me with nothin' but that on. Y' have no idea how hard it was t' keep my hands t' myself."

You opened your mouth to accept his passionate kisses. "Well please don't keep them to yourself now," you groaned out. He lifted you up to wrap your legs around his waist as he moved toward the stairs, carrying you to his bedroom to claim you once again as his.


	32. Chapter 32

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. Proceed with caution **Some pretty graphic bloody stuff here, sorry guys. But like I said, it all really happened once upon a time – in some way** PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 32**

The dream was so real. You could smell the sterile room of the ICU where you had spent a month. You could hear the beeping of the machines that helped you breathe. You were back in the hospital and IV tubes were snaking out of your neck. Electrodes were attached all over your body and your limbs were tied to the bed. The doctors kept circling your bed, chanting that they had saved you. Their scrubs were covered in your blood. They kept smiling at you while you were paralyzed in your hospital bed. You couldn't scream. There was a tube down your throat again. They brought in a spreader and said that they needed to go back in to make sure that everything was fine. They just wanted to check on you, they promised, they just wanted to look. They wanted to show off their best work to all their coworkers. Looking down at your stomach, each of your scars had broken open and was bleeding. You had new ones too. They looked like signatures. The doctors congratulated themselves again on a job well done, each pointing out where they had signed on your abdomen. The blood from your body was filling up your bed, but no one moved in to help stop the flow. Screaming without making any noise, you pulled and pulled on the straps holding you down. But it was no use. You were dying. They were going to sit there and watch you bleed out and die again, while they just fucking smiled at you.

You woke up gasping, pressing your hands to your stomach to check that everything was ok. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat and your pulse was through the roof. Glancing over to the other side of the bed, you noticed Jon still slept. His light snores filled the night. Thankfully he hadn't woken with your nightmare. Looking over to the clock by the side of the bed you noticed it was only 3 am. So much for dreamless comfortable sleep tonight.

Sighing, you lifted the sheet and slowly slipped out of bed. Your body hurt from all the activity yesterday. Your stomach hurt more than it had during the hike. You hated dreams that fucked with your mind. You knew this was just your brain playing some fucking trick on you after your horrible nightmare. You reached over to grab the D.A.R.E. shirt you had discarded on the floor yesterday morning. Nausea rolled up in your throat and you took a deep breath trying to calm the feeling away. Saliva pooled at the back of your mouth; you knew you were losing the fight. Quickly running into the bathroom, you shut the door quietly, so you wouldn't wake the sleeping man. You turned on the light and proceeded to lose the dinner that Jon had paid so fucking much for. As you flushed down the evidence, you thought about what a waste it was.

Silently opening the door, you left Jon's sleeping form and padded down the stairs to get a drink of water. He didn't need to listen to another one of your crazy episodes, especially after the wonderful day you had spent together yesterday. You just needed to chill out. You needed to get your mind off the upsetting fucking horror show that your dream was.

With water in hand, you walked back over to Jon's DVD collection, grabbing the movie Die Hard that you had noticed yesterday. You popped it into the player and, turning the sound down low, you laid down on the couch to lose yourself in the show. The dream had affected you more than you thought. You were scared that something was wrong. You were scared that you would end up there again, in a hospital, helpless and alone again. That was your worst fucking nightmare.

You must have drifted off on the couch because you were woken with a small kiss on your forehead. Snuggling down into the couch cushions you popped open one eye to see Jon standing in front of you with a look of concern.

"Y' ok? Woke up 'n y' weren't there. Didn' hear y' leave in the night." Jon asked you as he leaned down to brush a lock of hair back from your face.

You groaned, "Ugh, had another fucking nightmare, babes. Sorry. You looked so peaceful laying there, so I figured I would come down here and make use of your entertainment system. I must have fallen asleep before Bruce Willis saved the day," you chuckled. "Besides, I'm not surprised you didn't hear me. You were snoring loud enough."

He grinned at you, but the look of concern stayed in his eyes. "Y' could'a woken me up. I would hav' helped y' forget it." He paused, scooting you over on the couch so that he could sit next to you. "Y' wanna talk about it?" He asked softly.

You turned your face away from him and groaned again into the pillow. "No," you mumbled, "I just want to forget it." And you did, you wanted to forget the smell of blood. You wanted to forget the feel of the hospital sheets day after day. You wanted to forget the nurses coming in and turning your body for you because you were too weak to move. You just wanted to fucking forget. Why couldn't you just fucking forget.

"'Kay, then, y' wanna go do something today? We could do some more tourist shit. They have the fuckin' coolest Ripley's Believe It or Not here, 'n a fuckin' sweet wax museum, or maybe th' Mob Museum? I promise I won' put a hit out on y'," he grinned, poking his tongue out the side of his mouth.

You chuckled softly. "I know I'm safe with you, Jon. I've always been safe with you, haven't I? From the first time I stole your bag to the most wonderful night of my life last night, you've kept me safe from myself and my memories." Sitting up slowly, your stomach clenched in protest. You brought your hand to massage your scars again, man this fucking hurt today. "But, I'm not sure I can take much tourist shit today. I think I'd rather just bum around here if that's ok. I'm pretty tired and everything is kind of starting to take its toll."

He nodded, "Sure thing cupcake, we'll jus' stay around th' house t'day. Want me t' make y' some breakfast? I make a mean bowl of Froot Loops," he chuckled.

Just the thought of any food made your stomach roll again. Bile rose in your throat and you could tell you were going to lose it. You quickly clamped a hand over your mouth and pushed against his chest, willing him to move away so that you could run for the bathroom. You made it in time to puke what you thought was left of last night's dinner, but as you looked down in the bowl to flush you noticed something off. You were throwing up brown. That was not normal. Thanks to your medical training, you knew that was not fucking normal. Your hand started to shake with nerves, and you palmed your abdomen. Pressing lightly, you felt for anything out of the ordinary, any tenderness. But it seemed to be just sore where your scar tissue was, and with all the movement of the past week you weren't surprised at that. Sighing in relief, you figured the wine from last night was the cause. Thank god. You really couldn't deal with this happening to you again. Especially now, here.

As you exited the bathroom you found Jon standing there with a fresh glass of water. A worried look stayed on his face as you gratefully accepted the drink. "'M sorry I offered y' cereal. Y' think y're ok now? I won' mention food any more. Promise."

"Yeah," you grimaced, "I'm pretty sure the wine got to me last night. I'm _really_ not supposed to be drinking. I've not been very good on that front this past week." Looking up you gave him a small smile. "Let's just climb back on the couch if you don't mind. I'm getting pretty tired again."

"Yeah, let's get y' set up. What y' want t' watch? I c'n order a movie if y' want somethin' I don' have." Jon spoke while he guided you back over to the couch. He brought you a blanket and tucked it down over you. Crouching down next to you with concern he rasped, "Alicia, are y' sure y're ok? Y' sure y' don' need t' go t' a doctor or somethin'?"

You closed your eyes and relaxed back on the couch. "No, I should be fine. I just need to spend some down time and get my body back to fighting form." Exhaustion filled your body and you began to drift off before even answering him about a movie. He patted your arm. Pressing a soft kiss above your eye he turned and lowered his body in the chair next to you. He flipped on the television. Turning the sound down low he listened to whatever was on and sat there, watching you fall asleep.

Your head hurt so bad when you stirred again. The mid-morning light hurt your eyes and you felt so damn weak. You barely opened your eyes and looked around to see if Jon was still sitting near you. Apparently watching you sleep had been a little boring, because the television was off and the chair next to the couch was empty. You brought your hands up to your temples and rubbed them, hoping to bring any relief. Attempting to sit up, your stomach clenched again. The pain shot through your side and around your abdomen. It had gotten worse. Way worse. Nausea rolled inside you and you slowly spun off the couch to your knees. You crawled sluggishly across the floor to the bathroom. You made it there in time – just barely. You began to vomit in earnest.

You opened your eyes after the first wave of nausea receded slightly. Crimson blood filled the toilet bowl. Shit, shit, shit. This was bad. This was so fucking bad. You swallowed and tried to turn to call out for help, but nausea hit again. The blood kept coming. You couldn't stop long enough to say anything. Your stomach cramped harder with every heave. The pain was almost too much to bear. Your body was covered in sweat, your pulse was through the roof. Leaning your head against the seat of the toilet, you wiped your lips. Blood stained the back of your hand. You needed Jon. Where the fuck was Jon. As you leaned over the toilet again, you began to hit the wall as hard as you could in your weakened state, trying to signal to him. You hoped he was close enough to hear you and understand you needed him. You hoped he was still in the house. You hoped he would come.

You heard him running down the stairs, calling out your name. It all sounded so fucking fuzzy in your head. He burst into the bathroom and a look of pure horror spread over his face at the scene. You couldn't raise your head to say anything, you couldn't stop the blood from coming out of your mouth, out of your nose. It just wouldn't stop.

"Holy fuckin' shit! Alicia! Oh my god, fuck! Wha' the fuck is happening?" He bellowed out in a panic.

Your head lolled back, and you looked at his face. Your eyes were beginning to swim. You couldn't really make out his features anymore. "Get help…" you whispered out and then the world went black.


	33. Chapter 33

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **Real life sometimes gets in the way of what you want to happen, sorry for this** Proceed with caution PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 33**

Someone was talking, you heard someone talking through the haze. "Thanks, uce," they mumbled, "she's still out. They removed all th' breathin' shit, but she jus' won' wake up. Just want her to fuckin' wake up, y' know? Just want her back." They stopped for a second to shuffle around. Where were you? You couldn't remember anything. The last thing you remembered was going to sleep after Le Cirque. "She fuckin' died, brother. They fuckin' lost her," they sobbed out softly. Jon, that was Jon. Fucking Jon was crying. Why was he crying? You wanted to stop him from crying, you were fine. You wanted to sit up and let him know you were there, you were right there. You couldn't make your body move, though. But you didn't die. You were immortal after all you had been through. Everyone knew that, you laughed to yourself.

"Yeah, tell H I appreciate it more than he'll know." He paused for a second, "I'll do whatever he needs t' make up f'r it, man." He groaned out a long breath, "They still don' know when. Doctor's comin' back in a few wit' an update. Yeah, called her parents yesterday. 'S a good thing Colby remembered she used my phone. Thanks f'r talkin' me through that old phone numbers on y'r past calls list shit." He listened for a few seconds, "How y' think they fuckin' took it? Some random fuckin' guy callin' 'bout their baby girl dyin' again. In sin city, too." Sighing he said, "They seemed decent though, like fuckin' good people, y' know? Her dad's on his way." Dad? Dad was on his way? What the fucking hell was going on?

As you started to breathe in, you noticed the familiar smell of a hospital. Your ears took in the beeping in the background and you slowly started to shift your feet. Nothing moved at first. Your brain was telling your body to move, but nothing was working. Why the fuck wouldn't your body work?

Jon sighed again, and you heard him plop down in a chair. "Nah, y've got t' go, I understand. Fuckin' win f'r us tonight. Give me somethin' good to tell her when she wakes up." You heard him hang up the call and his chair scooted closer to you. His warm hand reached out to grab yours, "Y've gotta wake th' fuck up, cupcake. Can' keep them eyes closed f'rever," he rasped out. "Please, Alicia, fuckin' please."

You tried to squeeze his hand in yours, trying to finally get some muscles working again. Forcing your eyes to open slightly, you looked over to where he sat, looking down at your joined hands. He looked like pure shit. His hair was sticking out everywhere from where he had obviously run his fingers through it numerous times. There was a couple days growth of beard shadowing his jaw. Deep purple marks under his eyes showed proof of missed sleep. He was still in his outfit from the morning, a white t-shirt and his jeans. You remembered now, the pain, the blood… so much fucking blood. He leaned his head forward against the bed railing and sighed deeply.

"You can't," you paused to swallow painfully. "Get rid of me that easily, Mr. Good," you whispered hoarsely. Realizing how bad it must have been, you probably were under anesthesia and had to have another fucking surgery. No wonder everything fucking hurt again. No wonder it was so hard to move.

He quickly raised his head to look at your face, "God, Alicia, oh my god, thank fuck y're back wit' me. 'Ve been waitin' f'r y' to wake up for two fuckin' days."

"Wha…" you rasped out, wanting to know what happened. You wanted answers, but you needed a drink so badly. Your throat hurt so bad. "Water?"

"Can' give y' water yet, cupcake. They've gotta check y' out 'n shit. The doc should be back in in a minute." He brushed his hand over your cheek while he said this. Fresh tears shone in his brilliant blue eyes. You hated that you were the one to put them there. He held your hand tightly while he ran his fingertips over the edge of your hairline and down your cheek again. "Y' scared me. Y' fuckin' scared me so fuckin' bad. 'Ve never seen anythin' like that."

The doctor chose this time to arrive and looked over at you in the bed. "Ah, it looks like our lovely patient is finally awake. Welcome back," he said with a genuine smile. "You gave us all quite a scare. Any longer and you would have lost too much blood. As it is we had to transfuse you with five bags during surgery. You had a tear from an adhesion where your large abdominal scar had healed. I'm thinking the bleeding started about three or four days ago, but hit its peak two days ago when Mr. Good here brought you in." He glanced down at the chart and made some notes, humming to himself. "As you know with blood thinners like Warfarin that you are taking, you should get your blood checked regularly. When was your last INR test done?"

Your head was swimming from all of the information overload. "Uh," you whispered, since that was the most comfortable thing for your throat, "I guess a week or so ago?" You swallowed, trying again to bring relief to your dry mouth. You looked over at Jon and said, "They took me off Lovenox two days before I met you, Jon, so however many days that was, I guess."

"Nine, so addin' the past couple days I guess eleven?," he murmured softly, answering for you and looking more and more like a deer caught in the headlights with all the medical terminology being thrown around.

"Ah, ok then. Well, your INR is still way too high for my liking. It was above 4 when you were admitted which is probably why you were losing blood so quickly. I do not feel comfortable releasing you until we are well below 3. We will keep you here under observation while we level out your medication. I was able to close the tear and stop the bleeding with epinephrine. I'm going to be honest, you will have to take it very easy after this hospital release. I was not able to even see everything through the scope due to the amount of blood." He tapped his pen on the chart and hung it back on the bed. A nurse came in with a new IV bag and listened to the doctor's new orders allowing you water and ice chips. You stopped listening to him after he said his INR blood level spiel. This was your fucking fault. You knew you were supposed to go to the fucking doctor and get those tests, you were a medic for fuck's sake. But no… you had to go and fucking find yourself. And in finding yourself, you had caused the most wonderful man you had ever met so much panic and pain.

The doctor turned to leave, but you stopped him. "Did you lose me on the table?" You asked softly.

Jon inhaled sharply and gripped your hand even tighter. The doctor turned back to look at you and gave you another small smile, "Yes, like I said, it was a little difficult. You should be fine now, though. We'll get your medication right and the both of you can be on your way in a few days at the most." With that, he left the room with the nurse.

You looked back over at Jon and gave him a watery smile. "So sorry, babes. So sorry to make you go through this shit." You began to cry softly, "I've done nothing but cause you crazy problems from the beginning."

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss near your eye, brushing his lips over your tears. "Y're not t' blame, I pushed y' too hard. 'M th' one who's fuckin' sorry here. Shouldn't h've taken' y' out f'r a hike. Should'a known y' needed t' rest. Promised t' keep y' safe wit' me. Promised."

You heard a throat clear from the doorway and looked over to see your dad there, taking in the situation with interest. You blushed and gave him a smile. "Dad!" You cried out as loudly as your voice would allow.

Jon quickly stepped away from your bedside. He walked away to allow your dad to come over to your hospital bed. Funny, they were both 6' 4", but your dad looked so different than Jon. His gray hair was cut short so that you couldn't tell it was receding so badly. He had the look of a man who enjoyed his beer and food, a lot if his stomach had anything to say about it. You were so fucking happy to see him. You hadn't seen him, or anyone from your family for that matter, in almost two years. Tears formed again in your eyes, but this time Jon didn't come over to kiss them away. He stayed back against the wall, watching nervously as your dad walked in and came over to sit down next to you.

"Hey there, Leecie, what're you doing here, baby girl? Had to go and give us another big scare? Your mom says that's enough for a very long time." He reached out and patted your head like you were his little girl again. "We had the whole church and prayer chain praying hard for you. I'm so glad to see you're on the road back to recovery again."

He turned to Jon and rose from the chair. "Fred Price," he said extending his hand to Jon. You were pretty sure that you had never seen Jon quite so uncomfortable. He was twitching in full force, bouncing on his toes and shifting from side to side. He lowered his arm from tapping his shoulder blade and accepted your father's handshake. "Thank you for the call, young man. We appreciate you taking care of our baby girl. God sent us a blessing in you for being there when she got sick."

Leave it to your dad to be so fucking… purposely obtuse. He didn't want to know what he didn't want to know. It was easier to pretend that Jon wasn't embracing you when he walked in.

Jon cleared his throat and said, "'S not a problem. She's somethin' special 'n I knew y'd wanna be here wit' her. I'll, uh," he paused, looking around uncomfortably, "I'll, uh get some coffee f'r y' so y' can talk."

Dad thanked him and came back over to sit next to you. "Oh Leecie, what have you done?" He asked you in slight disappointment. "Who is this guy? And why are you even in Las Vegas? I thought you were exploring the Midwest by yourself. Isn't that what you told us this whole thing was about? Finding yourself? How did you get yourself mixed up in all of this?" He didn't raise his voice. That was one of the things that your father was always able to do: maintain his even voice while making whoever he was talking to feel like crap for letting him down. Tears fell from your eyes as you told him a little about your adventure. You left out the parts he didn't need, or probably want to know. You told him about the WWE and how amazing Jon and his friends were to you. You told him that you had been so happy hanging out with him.

"So, is this a love thing? After just a week of hanging around a new face who can show you some fancy world? Are you planning on marrying him?" Dad asked after you had told your tale.

You chuckled mirthlessly, your parents really knew fucking nothing about you. You hated weddings, didn't really believe in them, and they didn't believe you should even be with someone unless you were following the plan set out by the Bible. A man and woman met, dated for a long time, worked toward a union. They definitely didn't go off and sleep with someone before marriage. And they should always go into a relationship planning on making it a lifetime commitment.

"It was an adventure, Dad. Can we leave it at that?" You turned away from his face, not wanting to see any more disappointment in his gaze. Your eyes met Jon's in the doorway. He was looking at you sadly, holding two cups of coffee in his hands. Your chin started to tremble, knowing he had heard you both talking about him. This was all going so wrong. You wanted to go back in time and be at the Bellagio with Jon. You wanted to be curled up in his bed, in his warm embrace while he kissed away all your bad memories and horrible nightmares. More than anything you wanted to get out of bed right then and go hug him and tell him you were so happy about the time that you had shared. It wasn't just an adventure, it was a dream. A wonderful amazing dream.

Jon's face closed off and he brought your dad his coffee. He made polite small talk for a few minutes before your dad asked if he would join him outside the room for a second. Both of them left you to deal with the fact that your world was crashing down again.

They came back inside the room after a bit and Jon's demeanor seemed a little calmer. Your dad walked over to your bed and patted your shoulder. "Leecie, I'm going to grab something from the cafeteria. They don't even give you peanuts on the planes anymore, unless you pay for them." He chuckled. His huge hand covered your forehead and he rubbed it back and forth in a loving gesture. "I'll be back up in a while."

You nodded and watched him walk out the door. Turning back to Jon, you noticed that he didn't sit down this time. He stood away from your bedside, shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. "I gotta go back t' work, cupcake. Was supposed t' be there tonight, but they let me stay wit' y'. Now tha' y'r dad is here, 's pro'lly best that he takes over from here."

Your heart clenched in pain, "No!" You croaked out hoarsely. "Please don't go Jon, I don't know what he said to you, but I don't want you to leave. Please, stay…" you begged, "please."

Sadly, he walked towards you and took your hand in his, "He didn' say nothin' bad, cupcake. He's a good man. Wish I'd had a dad like y'rs, someone who cares so fuckin' much. 'S jus' th' way it is. I gotta go back, 'n you gotta get better. Y' still gotta go back t' y'r unit. We gotta accept this f'r what it was," he paused, "A adventure." He smirked partially with his last statement, allowing you to see a flash of a dimple. Turning your hand over he dropped the velvet choker with your cupcake charm in it. He folded your fingers over the necklace and looked into your eyes, "This is t' remember everythin' by. I know I'll never forget y', cupcake. Never." He leaned down and kissed your lips softly then turned and left your hospital room and your life.

When your dad returned to find you crying, he wrapped you in his arms and thankfully said nothing. Even though there was comfort, it wasn't his arms you wanted around you… it wasn't him you wanted there at all.


	34. Chapter 34

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. Proceed with caution PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 34**

You spent eight days in the hospital this time around. Your dad stayed with you the whole time, helping you with the plans to get you back to your base. The amount of paperwork for going over your allotted leave time was staggering, but thankfully they understood the exigent circumstances. They just told you to get better and bring your doctor's notes and records with you when you returned.

Your bags were brought to the hospital a couple days into your stay by a driver. You had hoped that Jon would be the one to bring them, you just wanted to see his face again. To kiss his lips. But he stayed away. Your father never mentioned him again. He knew you were hurting from the whole ordeal and decided that the best action was to just leave the whole issue in the past. You supposed it made sense in his eyes, out of sight out of mind. He spent a lot of time praying over your bedside and thanking God that you were alive again. He didn't try to quiet your tears when you cried, instead telling you tales of the family, the church and the travel trailer that your mom was allowing him to get after making him sell his motorcycle.

The doctors were pleased with your recovery and assured you that you should have no more problems if you maintained a healthy lifestyle and followed all the recommendations they gave you. You promised to behave. Your dad was thrilled you were better again. He chose to fly with you to Colorado and help you get settled before returning home to your mom.

The return to your base was depressing. The unit was still deployed, but you were immediately moved to a Warrior Transition Battalion anyway. There were so many doctor's appointments. So many that you didn't even know all the names of the doctors that you had to see. For that, you were grateful. At least your days were filled. It allowed you to ignore the pain of the memories. Every day you got up and dressed in the military uniform that had brought you so many fucking problems in your life. You would start your days with sadness and keep your misery to yourself while you went from appointment to appointment for all your medical problems. The nights were the worst, instead of dreaming about war, now you were dreaming about Jon. You missed his hands on your body and his kisses on your face. You missed him tucking your head under his chin and humming his calming random tune. You could close your eyes and see his smirk while he rasped out an inappropriate joke or sexy comment. How did just one week in your life turn out to be the most wonderful and memorable time? How was that man able to effect you that much?

The new unit set you up in a barracks room by yourself. At least you didn't have to deal with another fucking roommate. You had spent so many years living with people you didn't choose. It came with a nice TV and cable, but you couldn't bring yourself to watch Jon on any of the shows. The wounds were too fresh. Maybe someday you would be able to turn on wrestling and see his scowling face or his impudent smile and not have your heart clench in pain. But for right now, you lost yourself in getting out of the ARMY and moving on with your life.

The only thing you kept as a daily reminder of Jon was the tiny cupcake charm. You had moved it from the velvet ribbon and added it onto your dog tag chain so that you could wear it every day. It may not be in regulation, but you didn't fucking care anymore. You didn't really fucking care about anything. They stuck you back into therapy sessions for PTSD. While in these sessions, they suggested that you might benefit from a therapy dog. You smiled sadly and said that you would think about it.

Five months after your Vegas trip, you were finally released from the ARMY, permanently and completely disabled. The ARMY gave you pay-out for the end of your contract and your disability. It wasn't enough to live extravagantly, but it was enough for you to rent a small condo in a town thirty miles from your parents. It took you a month after getting out to give in and get your therapy dog. After being with him for a month, you were even more sure that you made the right decision. Taking one look and the huge Doberman, you knew that it was meant to be.

You went to the VA and they set you up as well, making sure that you were continuing your appointments, maintaining your health and even giving you a rating of 100% disability so that you wouldn't have to work another day in your life. It may not be the best life you were living, but it worked. Your parents were close enough that you could visit, but far enough away that you didn't feel like they could pop by at any time. You weren't having the best time, but you were alive. That was what was important.

The Pacific Northwest was not a weather friendly place to be in February. The rain would pour down regularly, freezing, but not enough to cause snow. The cold would permeate your bones and no amount of layering could even begin to bring warmth.

A creature of habit, however, you got Princess ready for his walk every day, and today was no different. The morning's chill was almost too much, but you made it down the street and to the ocean so that he could enjoy a little bit of running on the beach. He was such a dorky dog, but you figured he deserved to be as dorky as he wanted with a name like Princess. You smiled sadly as you watched him enjoying himself, Jon would appreciate the name. Time had helped you. Every waking moment was not spent thinking of the week you spent with him now. You were proud to say that after seven months he only entered your thoughts every hour, instead of minute.

Standing there watching the ocean waves, you tried to feel calm. You tried to accept, again, that this was your life now. Puttering around every day, eating healthy food, maintaining your medications, cleaning invisible dust from your house. You sighed as the almost ever-present sadness crept into your heart again. When would this feeling leave you for good?

Gathering up Princess' things, you leashed him up and began to walk back slowly to your condo. Maybe you could do something a little different today, like dust first before vacuuming. Boy, that sounded like a thrill a minute. Princess bristled a little as you got closer to the door. A large black SUV sat in your driveway. No one you knew had a vehicle like that. You wondered if your dad had gone out to buy another car and was stopping by to show it off. He did love his new toys, you chuckled to yourself. You walked up the drive to see who was visiting you. Princess let out a growl as you approached your stoop, alerting you that this was not someone familiar. There, in all his almost frozen glory sat Joe fucking Anoaʻi, burrowing into his jacket as he tried to stay warm in the freezing cold weather.

"Joe?" You asked curiously as you walked up the steps, "Oh my god! Joe! What are you doing here? Holy shit! How the fuck are you, man?" Princess growled again, and you looked down and patted his head, "Down boy, Joe here's an old friend." You turned to face Joe and said, "Come on inside, let's get you warmed up."

He stood and gave you a hug, "Hey baby girl, you're looking good. And yeah, it's pretty cold where you decided to put down your roots. A far cry from a Florida winter, that's for sure."

He followed you inside the door and into the kitchen. You took off all of Princess' service gear and leash and grabbed him some fresh water and food. Filling a pot with water you put it on to boil for some tea.

"I'm sorry I can't offer you anything stronger than tea, but I don't drink anymore, and I'm not allowed caffeine," you chuckled ruefully. "Doctor's orders."

"That's ok, I'm just here for a little chat anyway," he replied. You steeped the bags in a couple of mugs and offered one to him. Gratefully taking the tea from your hand he followed you into the living room and sat down in one of your chairs. It looked comically small with his huge form swallowing it up.

"So how have you been, Alicia? Nice little home you have here," he said as he glanced around. "You been doing good?" Joe asked after a minute.

"Did you really come all the way out here to comment on my décor and ask me how I am doing, Joe? I mean, how did you even find me? Not that I don't appreciate the visit," you told him honestly.

He set his cup down on the coffee table and leaned back a little as much as the small chair would allow. "Truth? I stole your parent's number from Jon's phone when he wasn't looking. He doesn't know anything about technology and has never deleted a thing." You snickered at this, knowing it was the truth. "When I told them what was up, they gave me your address so that I could come and talk to you."

You paused at that while you took a sip of your tea. Your parents knew that he was coming, and they didn't say anything? Wow, that was different. "So," you gestured with you hand, "talk." Princess trotted in to lay down at your feet, seeming to know that you were going to need support during this conversation.

"That's a mighty fine dog you have there, what's his name?" Joe asked.

"Princess, and he loves it…" You said, slightly defensively. "Joe, why are you here?" You asked softly.

"I wanted to know how you were, and honestly I wanted to know if you still felt anything for that lunkhead brother of mine." He chuckled, "Alicia, you guys may have only had a week together, but he hasn't forgotten you. That time with you meant a lot to him. He still has that picture of the two of you in the desert as his phone background, after Colby showed him how to set it, of course." He passed his hand over his face and glanced back up at you. "Do you watch anymore? Or I guess at all, since you never did to begin with?"

You looked down at your fingernails and picked at a cuticle. "Um, it's not that I don't love you guys and what you do, but it just hurts, you know? I just… well, it's easier for me to just live my life without trying to keep up with that world. It was an adventure, like he said… like we both said."

"Baby girl, he hasn't forgotten that adventure. He's still worthless when it comes to you. We can't even have cupcakes in catering without him getting all sullen and shutting down. It only takes one mention of the military for him to twitch or flip and then he's storming off. He almost bit off the head of one of the interviewers when she asked if he was available to go out with her. He's become even more unhinged. I'm pretty sure that if something doesn't change soon, he's going to go back into some of his old ways." He rumbled out.

You looked at him in shock, "But _HE_ left me, Joe. _HE_ was the one who said he had to go. _HE_ was the one who said we had our own lives and we needed to go live them. I begged him, Joe," you cried out, "I fucking begged him to stay with me. You have no idea how much I wanted him to fucking stay. He said he had to go and then left me in the fucking hospital bed. He didn't even return my bags. Some fucking driver did that. He had my phone number… kind of. Why the fuck did he let me go if he wanted to stay with me?" Princess sensed your distress and placed his head on your lap. You bent down to snuggle him and breathed in a deep breath. "Why the fuck didn't he just stay?" You asked softly.

Joe looked down at his feet and slumped his shoulders. "I can't answer that, baby girl. That's something he kept to himself. You know he doesn't really talk about things that bother him. We were so surprised when you came with him that first day and he had opened up so much to you. We saw how good you were for him. After everything that happened with you, he came back from Vegas and never said anything else about it. I know it still hurts him, though. I know my brother is still hurting. I just thought, maybe, if I could get you to come out and see him at our next big show…" His words dropped off as he looked at you hopefully.

"I don't know, Joe. I don't know if I can put myself out there again. It's been seven months since I saw him last. I just know it hurt so much when he left that it's taken until just recently for me to even be able to deal with being alone."

"Yeah, I understand that. I just want to see my brother happy again, baby girl. And he hasn't been happy since he was with you. I'd like to see you happy too. Seems like living alone in a big empty house might be a bit lonely."

He drew in a long breath before continuing, "They made him a champion, did you know that? Gave him the US title. He's held onto it for longer than anyone so far. He's doing good in the company, but he's just not happy anymore. I can tell he's working so hard to make it. He doesn't even really do anything but eat, sleep and work. I'm worried, Alicia. I don't want to see him fall into destructive behavior, and there's only so much that Colby and I can do to distract him." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a WWE pass and ticket. "This is for the Elimination Chamber Pay-Per-View later this month. It's in Minneapolis, but I've got an open-ended plane ticket for you if you choose to come." He looked over at you with caring eyes, "Can you honestly say that you want it to end the way it did, baby girl? I can see you haven't let go, I can tell by your words and I can tell by that necklace you're sporting right now. Galina helped him find a charm shop, so don't try to tell me that you got it for yourself."

Your hand came up to the small charm around your neck. You had forgotten that you changed it back onto the ribbon after you got out of the ARMY and just never took it off. Fingering the tiny cupcake, you smiled softly at Joe, "No, no, I guess I can't say that I have."

You reached out to take the tickets from him. "I can't promise anything, but I'll think about it, ok?"


	35. Chapter 35

***Trigger WARNING*** This book deals with a soldier who has been to war and seen and done some shit. Although artistic license has been taken, most of this shit is real. In fact, all of it is, but it has been gleaned from different people and put into one. **Please, if you have PTSD or deal with issues around war and gore, proceed carefully or maybe give this one a skip. **The end, my friends** Proceed with caution PS: thanks for the reviews and follows, I appreciate them. :)**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one in the WWE, no real or stage names. I write this purely as a form of bizarre therapy from my own time over there. I do own my own character Alicia Price. **This book contains swearing (lots) and eventual smut, but no slash.** It's a slow burn guys, so bear with me. This book is not cannon, and takes place vaguely when the Shield boys were together in the Shield pre-break up. The book focuses on Jon Good/Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose/OC, but there are cameos everywhere later. I use their real names in here because I think would like to know the real person if I ever met them. I realize Renee is real, and I love her and Jon, but, sorry, for this story she's just in the background. Anyway, enjoy! Feel free to ask questions, leave reviews and any other such awesomeness.

The idea of this book came from the song _Broken_ by Lovelytheband

I like that you're broken  
Broken like me  
Maybe that makes me a fool  
I like that you're lonely  
Lonely like me  
I could be lonely with you

There's something tragic, but almost pure  
Think I could love you, but I'm not sure  
There's something wholesome, there's something sweet  
Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

 **Chapter 35**

February 23rd found you seated in the stands at the Elimination Pay-Per-View. Joe was right, you didn't want it to end like that. The seats weren't ringside because you had brought Princess with you. You were in the stands high enough that you could see all the action, but you figured no one could see you. You didn't tell Joe that you were taking the flight. You didn't tell him that you were even coming tonight. Not sure of what you would see, you wanted to make sure you were able to have an escape route if it became necessary.

You had never sat in the crowd during one of the events and it was a totally different experience. Thanks to months of therapy, being surrounded by people was not nearly as difficult, and Princess had your back, so you felt safe. The matches played out one by one. You recognized some of the people on the card, cheering for Cody Rhodes when he won the tag team match for him and his brother. There were a couple more matches, one with two people who looked a lot like Joe. Probably some sort of relatives because his family was so deep into the wrestling empire.

Soon, you heard the entrance music for the Shield. They joined the crazy Wyatt family in the ring and you watched as the guys stood toe to toe. Joe peeked up to where your seat was located and noticed you sitting there. Shooting you a grin, he went back to facing off with Bray and his goons. Apparently, he was told you used the ticket. By his face you knew he could see you just fine from the ring. Before the match even started, Jon shot out like a light and went for the attack. The boys had to join the fray and get everyone else out of the ring so that Joe could calm him down with a few words before the match actually began. You heart was in your throat. It was just like the first match you had seen, Jon being crazy and his brothers backing him up. You didn't realize how much you missed him.

The Wyatts got set back up for the fight near the ring and the Shield decided who was going to fight first. The match was a good one, with the boys showing off their moves and the Wyatt goons fighting back in kind. Halfway through the match, Jon and Wyatt got into it outside the ring. They began making their way up the stairs in your section, through the stands, exchanging blows as they went. He was getting closer and your heart was beating faster and faster. It was almost like he knew you were there and was coming for you, bringing along a friend to fight with. He was almost within touching distance when he finally met your gaze and he paused, startled at your presence. Wyatt hit him from behind and he fell in front of Princess. Looking up at you he grinned, "Y' came…"

He got immediately back up and continued the fight outside the stands and through the arena door, then he disappeared. Soon a stagehand approached your seat and passed you a slip of paper asking you to come backstage. You rose from your seat and grabbed ahold of Princess' leash. He trotted behind you, happily leaving the noise of the crowded arena behind.

Backstage, you were ushered to the Shield locker room. All the memories of last year came back in a rush. Every time you had broken down and rushed back into Jon's arms. Every time he had been your comfort and stable place. You reached up to the door and gave a timid knock.

Jon must have been waiting for you to come back because he immediately opened the door. He was still dressed in his ring gear, covered in sweat from his match. Princess lifted his head at the introduction to a new person and gave a friendly sniff. Jon reached out his hand for him to sniff and then scratched behind his ears, unintentionally making a friend for life.

You stood there watching him interact with your service dog, your throat tight with emotion. There was so much you wanted to say, but you didn't have a clue where to begin.

"Y' got th' dog y' always wanted, I see." Jon said finally.

"Yeah, he's been great. He's a trained service dog for PTSD, so he helps during the bad days," you said with a smile down at Princess.

"'S nice. Wha'd y' end up callin' him? Somethin' strong 'n tough f'r such a big dog?" He asked while he stepped aside and let you both enter the locker room.

You chuckled, "Uh, something like that. His name's Princess."

Jon stopped suddenly and locked his intense blue gaze with yours. "Yeah?" He rasped out quietly.

"Yeah."

"'S good, fuckin' good name f'r a dog. I tol' y' it was," he said with a huge grin, dimples popping out in full force. You fucking missed those dimples over the past seven months. Your fingers itched to trace down his cheek and cup his face. He looked you over from head to toe, like he was memorizing you if you ended up disappearing from his life again. His gaze stopped at your neck and he slowly lifted a hand to finger along the worn-out velvet ribbon. "Y' kept it," he said softly, and then pulled his hand back as if you were fire and he didn't want to touch you for fear of a burn.

Your fingers came up to your neck and you fiddled with your cupcake charm. "Of course, I did. I love it. It was a present to remind me of one of the most favorite nights in my life." You paused, trying to figure out what to say to the man who had built you back up from a broken soldier and broken you again as a woman. "Why did you go, Jon? I wanted you to stay so badly. I wanted you to be there with me, so very much."

He shuffled in place, his nerves showing through tapping toes and fidgeting fingers. "Y'r dad asked me wha' I could give y'. He asked me wha' I wanted from y'. I didn' have th' answers I knew he deserved. We jus' had th' week y' had off, 'n then y' had t' go back. I knew I couldn' keep y' from goin' back. Knew y' needed t' get all healed up from everythin'. Continue gettin' y'r head on straight." He paused and looked deep into your eyes, "I knew y' were worth more than I could ever give y'. I kept goin' over 'n over in my head how y' got hurt when y' were with me." He ducked his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black cargo pants. "Promised t' keep y' safe 'n I fucked it up so bad."

Your heart melted at his words. "Oh Jon, for fuck's sake. That wasn't your fault. That wasn't even my fault, really. I know I should have been more careful, but we were just living our moment then." You brushed the back of your hand against the tears that were starting to fall. "I loved living that moment with you." With a shuddering breath you continued, "You have no idea what you did to me." Princess whined and nosed his head underneath your hand, giving you strength to go on.

Jon shifted again, uncomfortable and worried about the harsh truth he figured you were going to tell him. He fidgeted while he waited for you to deal your blow.

"You made me whole, Jon." He snapped his head up when you said this, curious as to what you were going to say next. Obviously not expecting you to tell him that he was wonderful, but that was what he was. This man deserved to know just how fucking wonderful he was. "You took a broken soldier and listened to all my fucking crap. You didn't judge me when I was going crazy. You held me and rocked me when I was breaking down from all the memories and horrors. You made me realize that even though I lost so fucking much over there, I was still alive, and living was worth it. I was worth it. You gave me back myself. That gift is worth more than anything you could ever work for, anything you could ever give me in the world. I'm so sorry that I got sick again when I was with you. I'm so so fucking sorry you had to deal with that. I know it must have been so fucking scary for you to see me, dying again in your house."

Tears were falling freely from your eyes and you were gripping Princess' leash for dear life. "I don't know what else to say to you except that I loved every minute that I spent with you. Fuck, I loved you. I missed you from the moment you left me to the moment I got to see you again tonight." You stopped to gain some composure, "I don't know what else to fucking say except that I don't regret anything. I never did, and I never will," you finished softly. You glanced away from Jon's scrutiny, unsure of where to go from here. You had said it all, said everything you needed to say to him. You wanted him to say something, do something. Anything to show that he had heard you and understood.

"Cupcake, fuck…" he grated out. "'M not good wit' this shit. This feelings shit is all fuckin' new t' me. I knew when I met y' tha' y' were different. Y' were like me in some ways. We'd both lived th' fucked up kinda life that people don' understand. Knew tha' y'd change me, but I didn' fuckin' know how much. I left y' there that day wit' y'r dad cus I wanted t' make myself better f'r y'. Make myself somethin' that y' could be proud of, someone y' could be proud t' show off t' y'r family 'n shit." He walked slowly over to where you stood. Princess, deciding that he was no threat at all, lay down next to you and ignored the whole scene.

Jon slowly reached a hand out to your arm and ran his fingers down to your hand. Interlacing them with yours, he gripped your hand tightly. Holding your gaze, he said, "Fuckin' fell f'r y', cupcake. Fuckin' fell f'r the whole package. All th' crazy 'n the good. 'Ve never been good at this, but I fuckin' love y', cupcake. I loved y' enough t' let y' go and fix y'rself, like y'r dad asked me t' outside y'r room tha' day. Loved y' enough t' hope tha' y'd come back when y' were ready t' try again."

You gasped when he said this, "But why didn't you just _tell_ me this? Why the fuck didn't you just tell me that was why you were leaving? I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought it was all just too much for you to deal with and that was why you were leaving. I fucking realize it was only a week that we had together, Jon, and I know that a whole lot happened during that time. But, why? Why did you just let me think that you were gone forever?"

"Cus y' deserved t' get better, cupcake," he said softly. "Y' deserved t' fix y'r mind 'n y'r body t' make sure y' were where y' wanted t' be. We went kinda fast, y' 'n me, 'n I wanted t' make sure y' really wanted t' do this, without all th' other bullshit gettin' in th' way." He paused for a second and gave you a hopeful little smile, "Is y' bein' here y'r way of tellin' me tha' y' wanna do this? Tha' y' wanna come back t' th' lunatic 'n my crazy world? Y' wanna spend y'r next two lives hangin' out wit' me?"

Considering his words carefully, your heart leapt in your chest. This man fucking loved you, the whole fucking crazy package that you were. The broken bits and the ridiculous breakdowns. He fucking loved you.

You reached out your other hand and cupped his chin. Smiling genuinely for the first time in seven months you said, "Yes, a thousand times, yes."

He groaned at your words and pulled you to his chest, giving you a warm and comforting hug. It felt so fucking good. All the heartache from the past months drifted away as you snuggled into his tight hold. You tucked your head under his chin and he rocked you while he hummed. Happy tears filled your eyes. This man's arms felt so good. They made you feel like you were finally home.

Pulling back from the embrace he leaned down to finally capture your lips with his. You groaned at the instant pleasure he was able to ignite in you. Opening your mouth to allow him access you sighed again. He took advantage of your movement and plundered your mouth, twisting his tongue around yours and moaning in earnest.

Both of you were so wrapped up in your reunion that you didn't notice the locker room door open until you heard someone clear their throat. Turning in Jon's arms you looked over to see Joe and Colby standing in the doorway with shit-eating grins on their faces.

"Welcome back, baby girl," Joe rumbled out.

"Nice to see you're where you belong again, Alicia," Colby added.

You gave them both a grateful smile and hugged Jon tightly. "Thank you for the chat, Joe. Thank you for helping a girl out when she needed a little push."

Jon looked curiously at Joe. "Y' did this?"

Joe shrugged and said, "We could see you needed her back, uce. Figured it was about time to get involved and help a brother out."

Jon chuckled at his brothers and then turned back to you. Leaning down to whisper in your ear he said, "We're gonna make this work, right? Want t' keep y' wit' me for now 'n ever if y' want." He sighed in contentment at having you back in his arms. "Y'r not gonna leave me now, are y'?"

You snuggled deeper into his embrace, "Nope."

**A/N**

I just want to thank you all for coming along with me during this journey. I started this to get some of the old memories out of my head and I'm happy that you came along for the ride. I want to give a huge shout out to Brookworm3 for the reviews and positive comments along the way. I would also like to take a moment to wax poetic about the man who sat next to me in every hospital stay, not knowing if I would ever wake up. I would like to thank him for reading this shit even though it brought back so many bad memories about the past. He's my Jon Moxley, my fighter, and thanks to him I got my happy ending too.

Thanks again, all - nothing but love for everyone who read


End file.
